#do not put me in charge of optimizing things ever. Okay. Is the moral of the story

[ranvwoop]

LOOK AT HIM

[the-redeemed-anon]

Welp, since we got Wilbur back, let’s take a look at Eight

As a disclaimer, I’ll talk about the character, and if I mention the CC, I will label his name accordingly.

Okay, since the pog thing that happened on the 29th of April, and a couple of bad takes have already started to pop up Jesus Christ guys why do you want the dude that just got back to life after being trapped in limbo for over a decade to get beaten up violently- I think it’s appropriate to bring attention to the thing that gave me my pseudonym and my belief that we may get a redemption/healing arc for Wilbur: the song Eight, by Sleeping at Last.

Why this song matters, you may wonder. Well, it’s a song that we have confirmation to have been CC!Wilbur’s personal inspiration for his character, as said by CC!Wilbur himself. Not only does that give us insight into how and why Wilbur acted in certain ways in Season 1, but it also gives us the opportunity to see the inner turmoil he went through and still will.

Now keep in mind that this is just my interpretation of the song, other people may see the song differently, but overall looking at this song and looking for meaning into it I think is very useful if you plan to analyse Wilbur or even write about him. It truly gives you a lot of insight and context for how he was. Here is a link to it for you to listen to it, before I dive into the analysis.

First, let’s see what Eight is about, as a song. The song is about Type Eight of the Enneagram of Personality, which is basically a system that defines 9 different personality types. Sleeping at Last made a song for each Enneagram, actually, but we’re here to talk about Type 8 (also bear in mind I am not an expert in psychology, so I am not here to comment on the validity of this system. I’m here just to analyze a song lol).

What is Type 8 (aka a bit of analysis on Wilbur outside of the song)

Type 8 is often called the Challenger or the Protector. This type is characterized by a want to not show vulnerability, to have power. Their deepest fear is to not be in control of themselves, to be harmed, to be vulnerable, and their desire is to be in control of themselves, their life/destiny. They want respect over status, value loyalty and they want to make an impact on the world. You can start to see some core characteristics of Wilbur in this description.

We also have levels, from healthy to unhealthy, with which we can see what a Type 8 person can behave like.

Healthy Type 8 people act like a protector for others, they are the strong leaders, the challengers of oppression, the people who don’t stand for injustice in their communities. You can say they are the natural leader type, and I think you can start to see inklings of Wilbur’s personality from early Season 1 here. He started L’Manberg to challenge what he saw as tyranny. When Wilbur described the reasons he cared about L’Manberg, we can also notice that the values he lists align with the core desires of a Type 8: the desire to have control over their life, and not allow others to control them. By making L’Manberg to “stick it to the man“, Wilbur is very stereotypically a Type 8.

Average Type 8 people aren’t as open as someone on the healthy level is. Showing weakness is unacceptable. They may see relationships as the next challenge they need to surpass, and can come easily off as intimidating and ambitious to peers. To me, this sounds a bit like Wilbur after the War, before the announcement of the Festival. He was more closed off around that time, and you could argue that the Elections were a part of his ambition to prove that people respect him, that he can do this, rule a country. The new revelation that Wilbur was lying in his letters to Phil, about the Elections and the formation of Pogtopia also shows that he didn’t want to show weakness, to disappoint or worry his father.

Unhealthy Type 8 people become so closed off that they are intimidating and can appear tyrannical from the outside, often disregarding the feelings of others. They pursue power, and when someone stands in their way, they are cold and become quite antagonistic. They may issue empty threats in their pursuit for power, and their already existing relationships are turned into tests, where the only option is to pass or to fail, with no in-between. This can result in them being abandoned, and them accepting this as being better this way, to be alone. They can force themselves into loneliness.

If this sounds terribly familiar and recent, well... Wilbur, ever since the “Then let’s be the bad guys“ speech, has exhibited the traits of an unhealthy Type 8. Even now, post-resurrection, while he is trying to improve on himself, a lot of his traits remain or have worsened, due to staying in limbo for 13 years. He still has a persona under which he hides his issues, and as I have said in another post, he’s the emotional equivalent of a snail, you poke him gently and he completely retreats in his shell. Wilbur has actively driven people away from him for being so confrontational, and this can be seen again with Ranboo. All in all, Wilbur is definitely cozy in that section of the Type for now.

I also want to talk separately about three things:

1. The Pit

I won’t lie, the Pit is probably the most extreme thing Wilbur did to this date. It’s Wilbur at his lowest point morally and mentally, reveling in his brother figure fighting a much tougher opponent and losing. I won’t sit here and say he was right, nor am I gonna condemn you for your opinion on the Pit, but, when you look at Wilbur’s enneagram, the Pit and why it happened makes sense. What happened right before? The Festival. The Festival was meant to be the time Wilbur either blew up Manberg or left it be, based on Tubbo’s call. Wilbur prepared for those two scenarios, and felt in control of the situation... then it all went horribly wrong. The situation spiraled wildly out of Wilbur’s grasp and it ended with the death of Tubbo and the possibility of Techno being on Schlatt’s side.

This started a breakdown fueled by paranoia that led to the Pit, to Wilbur goading Techno and Tommy to fight. The question is, why? Why do that?

To regain control. Wilbur, in my opinion, did that in an attempt to regain control, after the Festival slipped so hard from his grasp, no matter his effort to keep control of it. That was his urge, that was his need in the moment, no matter how messed up it was, he may have felt like this was necessary. Remember, the core fear of Eights is to not be in control of their own life and destiny, to be puppeteered by someone else. This is why the Pit happened, when you acknowledge the fact that Wilbur was unstable mentally, and he is the type of person to want control.

2. The want to protect others

This is a quality of healthy Eights that still shines through with Wilbur, but it’s sadly overshadowed by his more antagonistic or morally darker actions and quotes.

Wilbur was naturally a protective person. Because Eights challenge authority, this makes them see the world as being inhabited by those who are strong and those who are weak, and not in a bad way. Eights consider themselves part of the strong ones, because they stand up for themselves, but because they see the world also inhabited by the weak, they have the urge to protect them. They also stand up for whom they think can’t stand up for themselves on their own, they think they are responsible for the protection of others.

And when you look at Wilbur, this shines through. He made himself President, and while no one protested, he did it because he felt he was the one fit for the role. Even at the time this scene happened, you can see why Wilbur would have perceived Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy as weaker than him: Fundy was his son, and Tommy and Tubbo, no matter the age intended at the time, were always viewed as younger than him, not to say, Tommy had just lost 2 lives back-to-back. Therefore, Wilbur put himself in charge and with the duty to protect the nation and its people, as the President.

Wilbur even says this in the flashback from Quackity’s stream:

[“What has made you do everything you’ve done up to this point?” (Quackity)

“That’s a- That’s a big question. Um. I guess it’s just protection for my people. I mean, I- I- I just want to see them thrive, and I want to see them safe.” (Alivebur) - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:03:02, 12th Apr)]

It’s clear, Wilbur has a desire to protect his nation, and, by extension, his people, his friends, especially with the following quote once Quackity replies: [“Your aspirations of optimism are not going to be subject to my nation’s security I’m afraid. I- I completely disagree with everything you’ve said.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:05:18, 12th Apr)] He keeps hammering in the idea that he did what he did to protect and offer safety to his friends. That’s why he needed power: [“If you want to really help people, you’re gonna need power, Quackity.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:05:42, 12th Apr)]

And again, this happens even after the “Then let’s be the bad guys“ speech. Even though he initially says he wants to kill everyone at the Festival, when confronted with this on the day of the event, he second-guesses himself. He doesn’t want to hurt his friends, he doesn’t want to hurt people weaker than him. He distrusts Tubbo, but the moment Techno fires the first rocket, he’s shocked, appalled and moves to go to the button, while urging Tommy to act. When Schlatt wants to kill Niki, he steps out and offers himself to be killed and no one else be harmed.

Even the act of pushing the button himself, there are Wilbur analysts who have pointed out that Wilbur may have wanted to be stopped. And even then, the explosion created no casualties, thanks to all of them wearing armor.

In the Void, Wilbur talks about how he’s evil, how the server is better off without him. He recognizes himself as a hazard, and while that is a part of his self-loathing and hatred, you can also see his care for others shine through: he didn’t want to come back at the time, because he thought he would bring back conflict, suffering [“Here’s the thing, I genuinely think, if it weren’t for me and you dying right, the server would be in shambles. I know for a fact that if I come back, or if I’m brought back to life in some way it’s definitely gonna just go [shit again]” “I know what I’m like, that’s the issue.” - (Tommy’s am i dead?: 10:29, 4th March)]. By staying dead, at this point, he was continuing to prevent weaker people from being harmed.

Even now, post-resurrection, we can see this, but, well...

3. Opinion on Dream

I have looked at this before, from the angle of Wilbur’s mentality. We all know his opinion on Dream so far, that he would have killed him on the spot for what happened to Tommy in the Exile, but Wilbur still considers him his hero. While I said at the time that it may be a subtle way for Wilbur to cloak his self-loathing and self-hatred, but now I want to look at the first part again, from the perspective of Type 8:

Wilbur, by having the urge to kill Dream on the spot, for what he did to Tommy in Exile (and, keep in mind, Ghostbur wasn’t there for all of it, so Wilbur did not see the destruction of Logsted and why it happened, or how Tommy was completely isolated from everyone after the party, and Tommy referred to Dream as his owner to Mexican Dream), no matter what he says after about Dream, proves that he still has the quality to want to protect the weak.

Dream, as always, is one of the strong people of the server. He’s the owner, he has a lot of items and good gear, and in general, everyone recognizes him with a level of danger he presents, and power. Tommy, on the other hand, is one of the weaker ones.

While Tommy has valuable traits, like his loyalty, his fierce determination and the will to keep moving despite how low life kicks him at times, one can’t deny that, in general, Tommy is viewed as one of the weak. He doesn’t have that many powerful items, he isn’t physically that strong, people constantly pick on him, and he is one of the minors of the server, the youngest of them, in fact. Add to that the humiliation of Exile and the treatment he was put through, Tommy was not only at his weakest then, but also at his most vulnerable.

Why would it be a surprise then for Wilbur to want to gut Dream, considering the above? Tommy and Wilbur were very close. As Wilbur acknowledged in the latest stream: [“We were a family, Tommy. We were…” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 27:26, 5th May)], they were once so close they could have been brothers. Tommy stuck with Wilbur as a right hand man, he was the only one who didn’t give up on him in Pogtopia, no matter if he thought his choices were right or wrong, and Wilbur confided in Tommy a lot. Now take this little brother figure he had in Tommy, and put him through Exile.

Of course Wilbur would want to gut Dream, Tommy may as well be part of his family, and Wilbur doesn’t strike me as the kind to want his loved ones in pain, genuinely. He may dismiss the feelings Tommy has sometimes, but his reaction to Exile shows that he isn’t blind to suffering. He saw it and recognized as harmful and damaging to Tommy, unprompted by anyone else.

He even makes a comment that I think may be important in the future: [“Tommy, I’m not, I’m not- I wasn’t blind, I saw what he was doing to you, Tommy. I saw. I saw what he was doing to Tubbo. I saw what he did to me.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 21:08, 5th May)]. Remember, Wilbur right now is deeply conflicted, I don’t think he’s properly sorted his feelings on Dream yet. He, in this quote, recognizes he saw how Dream treated Tommy, Tubbo and himself. While Eights want to protect the weak, their core fear is being controlled or harmed by others. I am very curious what will happen if, or, when, Wilbur will decide that Dream is also a hazard to himself, or if Dream will try to use Wilbur for his own plans. But, this is starting to deviate from the purpose of this post so, with that out of the way...

The lyrics:

I remember the minute It was like a switch was flipped I was just a kid who grew up strong enough To pick this armor up And suddenly it fit

Here, Wilbur’s arc and story begins. The lyric recount the moment Wilbur’s spiral began: the Final Control Room. He remembers that betrayal up to his death, still calling Eret a traitor and quoting him, with the same quote he used: “It was never meant to be”. This moment is what will define and shape Wilbur throughout Season 1, and even now. The switch mentioned is the button pressed, the moment everything changed. “I was just a kid” is Wilbur recognizing that he was not ready for the role of President, sentiment reflected by the rest of the lyrics: “who grew up strong enough/To pick this armor up”. Wilbur forced himself to bear the title of president, like a suit of armor, something that protects you, and helps you to fight for others, until “suddenly it fit”.

God, that was so long ago, long ago, long ago I was little, I was weak and perfectly naive And I grew up too quick

Here Wilbur internally recognizes that time passed, his ideology changed, as evident the quotes from Quackity’s stream: [“You say, you say everyone has a good side, Quackity. And you’re right, you’re right, everyone has a good side, but that good side is only there to help themselves. If you want to really help people, you’re gonna need power, Quackity. You can make a movement, you can make a resistance, right, you can go out and you can come back, and they’ll give you a ticker tape parade. They’ll cheer for you in the streets, but you will change nothing. If you have a revolution, everyone will hate you, you will sacrifice everything, and you will lose everything you’ve ever had, but you’ll come back and everything will be changed. And Quackity, if you want to change things, you’re gonna need power. That’s what you want, really, isn’t it? Look at me. And power isn’t gaining from diplomacy, and bureaucracy, and giant courthouses suspended in the sky, blah blah blah. It’s gained from swords, Quackity. It’s gained from blades, it’s gained from steel, iron. Even if everyone has this good side that you’re talking about, then anyone who wants to prove it, has to show their dark side first. You’re going to have to kill, you’re going to have to torture, you’re going to have to maim.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:06:34, 12th Apr)]. Yet, even if this happened so “long ago, long ago, long ago”, he “grew up too quick”, because the change was too sudden, and it didn’t occur naturally.

Now you won't see all that I have to lose And all I've lost in the fight to protect it I won't let you in, I swore never again I can't afford, no, I refuse to be rejected

I think this verse refers to the Election and its fallout. He quite literally loses a lot on that day, not only his country and his second life, but seemingly, his son, because Fundy takes down the walls. Wilbur also lost a lot in the Independence War, as he lost his first life in there, his son and allies lost their lives too, and this created the perfect environment for paranoia around trust to form. Wilbur, at this point, swears to not let himself be vulnerable with anyone again, or to fully trust people, because of what happened in the Final Control Room and at the Elections. The last line is Wilbur deciding to go ahead and start Pogtopia, to reclaim his nation. As you may remember, the Election was held so that Wilbur could legitimize his presidency, because he felt people started to not listen to him anymore, and an election, in his mind, would have fixed that. Due to his paranoia, and depression, Wilbur couldn’t afford to lose, because the presidency was one of the things that gave him happiness and helped him function. Once he lost and was banished, he decided to strike back and take back the country, or, as the lyrics say, “I refuse to be rejected”.

I want to break these bones 'til they're better I want to break them right and feel alive You were wrong, you were wrong, you were wrong My healing needed more than time

People who’ve broken a bone before may be familiar with this, but there is a possibility for a broken bone to heal incorrectly, so, when that happens, the bone is broken again and you try again. What that lyric means is that Wilbur was not healing properly, and he was constantly damaging himself again, to restart the process, to make his bones stronger, to make himself better. The “feel alive“ part, in my opinion, goes hand in hand with the fact that Wilbur was... not in the best place mentally in that time. We all know how he died, and, to be honest, a lot of the morally bad things Wilbur did could be argued to have been done to give him something to live, be it thrill or satisfaction. The last two lyrics, I feel, are directed to Tommy; Wilbur needed more than just time to “come back around“, and we know how Season 1 ended.

Now, this may be a controversial take, but... This is the end of Wilbur’s Season 1 arc. I think this is as far as Wilbur’s parallel to Eight went in Season 1, it’s the Pogtopia Era, up to November 16th. You may say that it’s his unfinished son- *gunshots*

Okay, okay, but what does that mean for the rest of the song? Well... It could be that either CC!Wilbur will stop with the Eight parallels here, or, the version I like, it means that the rest of the song is a hint for insight into how Wilbur feels and how his character will change in the future.

When I see fragile things, helpless things, broken things I see the familiar I was little, I was weak, I was perfect, too Now I'm a broken mirror

This is Wilbur recognizing that he is not okay, internally, which we know is a thing in canon, because of this quote from the Resurrection stream: [”Are you trying to- Are you trying to make me- Tommy, are you trying to make me- You remember that time in the cave? Are you trying- Are you trying do- Are you trying to make me feel like I did back then, in Pogtopia? Are you trying to- Are you trying to make me feel as bad as I did back then? ‘Cause it’s not gonna work!” - (Tommy’s Breaking Into Prison To Kill Dream: 59:06, 29th Apr)] It’s a great step for Wilbur, afterall, healing starts when you recognize you have a problem, so you can begin fixing it, but, as we know...

But I can't let you see all that I have to lose All I've lost in the fight to protect it I can't let you in, I swore never again I can't afford to let myself be blindsided

Wilbur is the emotional equivalent of a snail. Here we see “Snailbur” doing a reprise of the third paragraph, which I linked to him in the Election Era and its fallout. From the way the lyrics are worded, we can see the how similar they are, but there is a difference: reluctance. Wilbur knows he’s not okay, but he can’t reach out for help, because then, he’ll be showing weakness, but he wants to open up. “Now” becomes “but”, “I won’t let you in” becomes “I can’t let you in”. Now he’s not afraid of rejection, he doesn’t want to be blindsided, which I didn’t know at first what it meant, because my native language is not English, but when I looked it up I came across this definition: “to surprise someone, usually with harmful results”. This shows us something important: Wilbur is hiding his true feelings because he’s afraid to not be hurt again. He doesn’t want another Final Control Room or Election to happen to him.

I'm standing guard, I'm falling apart And all I want is to trust you Show me how to lay my sword down For long enough to let you through

This set confirms it, Wilbur is on the defense now, he’s defending from potential hurt, and the second part of the first lyric is hinting at what a lot of Wilbur analysts have pointed out and we are prepping for: Wilbur having a big crash from the high he’s experiencing from getting resurrected, he’ll be “falling apart“, he’ll be vulnerable, and open to hurt, or... Redemption. This is it. This is the section that made me insist and theorize about a redemption/healing arc: that second lyric, continuing with the rest: Wilbur is reaching out to someone or some people, that he can put his trust to. Wilbur doesn’t just need someone willing to redeem him, because we had that in Pogtopia, with Tommy, no, Wilbur also needs himself to open up, trust people and ask for help. And that is exactly what happens in the last two lyrics: Wilbur is asking for help to open up and let people help him.

Here I am, pry me open What do you want to know? I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough To hold the door shut And bury my innocence But here's a map, here's a shovel Here's my Achilles' heel

And here we have it. Wilbur opening up. Wilbur finally letting someone in, admitting he’s scared, he’s scared of hurting again, comparing himself to a kid. This one I find very symbolic, because if he, at the beginning, was a kid, then by admitting he is a kid at this stage, he’s the same person he was at the beginning, with the good he had, with the flaws he had, what he did and the trauma he gained will never erase that. The innocence in this part of the song, I think is Ghostbur. People forget, but while Ghostbur seems to be a separate entity, he’s still very much a version of Wilbur. He has a lot of his memories, his happy ones. Wilbur and Ghostbur are the two sides of the same coin, different, yet so much alike. You need both to understand the other. Wilbur has the capacity to be innocent, to be kind, good, he just... buried these qualities, and someone has to help him dig them up, when he is ready to open up. I don’t think I need to explain the meaning of someone showing you their Achilles’ heel, beside the fact that it means they trust you with their life. Wilbur needs to find someone to trust.

I'm all in, palms out I'm at your mercy now and I'm ready to begin I am strong, I am strong, I am strong enough to let you in

Here, I think we see Wilbur accepting the consequences of his actions, of the hurt he caused, because, while he’s not irredeemable, he did hurt people, and he needs to be open to them not forgiving them, but, as the song says, just then he’ll be “ready to begin” his healing and redemption. And right at the end there, “I am strong” is repeated thrice, he’s ready to heal, to be vulnerable with someone. It’s the redemption in full swing from here to the end.

I'ma shake the ground with all my might And I will pull my whole heart up to the surface For the innocent, for the vulnerable And I'll show up on the front lines with a purpose

Remember what I said, about healthy Eights? Champions of the people, natural leaders, challengers of oppression and protectors of the weak? This is what Wilbur should become at the end of the redemption, if we are to follow the song. He’s gonna put all of his strength into fighting for what’s right, and he’ll open up, he will heal. We’ll be back to fighting for “the innocent, for the vulnerable”, he’ll have a purpose to fulfill. L’Manberg was deeply tied to both Wilbur and Ghostbur, and Wilbur himself admitted to caring about L’Manberg because what it stood for. Now, L’Manberg is gone, but those ideals aren’t. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll fight in the future to protect those ideals.

And, finally:

And I'll give all I have, I'll give my blood, give my sweat An ocean of tears will spill for what is broken I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again Invincible like I've never been

I really like the end here. Because, it’s not only reinforcing the idea that Wilbur will be redeemed, but that penultimate lyric always stood out for me: “I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again”. Porcelain is, while very fragile, a beautiful material. When I think of the word, I think of beautiful vases, handcrafted with skill and care. It’s a shame when a porcelain vase breaks. But, just because something is broken, it doesn’t mean it can’t be repaired. And when I think of repaired porcelain, I think of the Japanese art of kintsugi - a technique with which broken pottery is glued in such a way that the cracks aren’t hidden, but celebrated as a part of the object’s history, by filling them in with gold. I like to think that at the end of his healing arc, Wilbur will be similar, he was broken, he healed, but the scars are still there, and, even then, he’ll be thriving again. It’ll be an experience that, overall, helped him become better. And the final lyric: “Invincible like I've never been“, I like to think that this will be him at his peak: healed, happy, ready to take life by the horns, like he wasn’t before. It’s a hopeful, happy note to finish the song and his story on.

And that is my analysis on the song and the enneagram, I guess (Jesus this got waaay longer than I expected). I really hope Wilbur will get a redemption arc, it’s already wonderful that we have him back AND he wants to live (it’s honestly the first time I see, in any media, a suicide victim that not only is brought back to life, but they are happy to be back). Hopefully this is useful to people, and, as always, thanks to @kateis-cakeis for compiling Wilbur’s/Ghostbur’s quotes in a masterlist with timestamps and anything you’d want to know about them. It’s a goldmine of analyzing Wilbur and I highly encourage you to check it out.

[subjecta5newtella]

you know that trope where person a is having a really hard time and person b spends time with them to calm them down at night and they are about to leave so person a can get some sleep but person a grabs their hand and asks them to stay. you know that trope. but it’s nalby in the glade

this was supposed to be like. 200 words. the all-consuming love for pre-thomas glade dynamics hit me and now it's 2.3k. god help me.

Alby tries to tell himself it’s just habit that brings him to the Map Room at the same time every day, not some kind of ritual or anything. Surely it’s normal to hate a break in routine, to feel just a little off-balance when something requires his attention and he doesn’t arrive in time to walk to dinner with the Runners.

All the Runners. Definitely not one particular Runner. The second-in-command shouldn’t be playing favorites.

He’s been late the last couple days, tasked with shuttling the new Greenie around when Nick needs to attend to other things, but the kid has attached himself to a group of the Builders to the point where Alby feels like he can leave him for a while (and thank god for that, honestly, because he’s one of the ones that talks all the time when he’s nervous).

He watches the Runners file out of the Map Room one by one, but Minho comes out last and locks the door and there’s still one missing.

“Where’s—“ Alby starts, but Minho cuts him off before he can even get the question out.

“Finished his map early and headed off. He’s been weird all day.”

“Why?”

Minho shrugs. “Fuck if I know, dude. You know how hard it is to get answers out of that guy when he doesn't want to talk? Might work for you, though.”

There are a hell of a lot of implications there, a lot of observations he’s made that Alby hadn’t noticed him making, but Minho isn’t in charge of the Runners for no reason. Talking to him is easier once you remember that, as much as he sometimes makes it hard.

“I’ll try,” Alby says, and sets off to find Newt.

Newt’s not in the first place he looks, which is probably good because that particular spot behind the Homestead is where Alby had found the wreckage of him one time in the early days, a time bad enough that they just don’t speak of it. He’s not in the gardens either, and as Alby treks back across the Glade to head towards the trees, he curses Newt’s tendency to vanish when he’s upset. It could be worse; he’s not picking fights or breaking shit or any of the other, more destructive coping mechanisms Alby’s seen from some of the Gladers, but since the anxiety doesn’t go away until he finds Newt, he wishes Newt was a little less opposed to being found.

Alby finally finds him just past the area where most of the Gladers sleep, half in the woods but not quite. He’s brought his sleeping bag with him as well, as though he expects to stay there until morning, as though he thinks his wouldn’t be one of the most visible absences possible for the rest of the evening. He’s staring up at the trees, flat on his back and face still a little red, and when Alby comes to sit next to him he turns his head and pushes himself up into a sitting position, but doesn’t say anything.

Newt’s an odd creature sometimes. Alby knows him better than anyone else, but there are still times when he’s not sure if the best thing to do is get him to talk or leave him alone. Maybe this time the right thing to do is not to talk, but with every second the quiet feels more and more like a weight pressing down, and Alby breaks.

“What’s going on?”

Newt won’t look at him for a moment, just at his own hands, but then he seems to come to some kind of decision and makes eye contact. “I don’t think there’s a way out of here,” he says, and then everything spills out of him like bile or blood. “I think Minho thinks the same thing, he just doesn’t want to admit it. And that feels bad all the time but it feels worse when there’s a new Greenie, because it’s bad enough that there’s another kid stuck here with us, but then we’re supposed to give them hope. They find out about the Runners and they get told we’re looking for a way out, and they start to think it’s actually possible.”

And that…. well. Alby doesn’t begin to know what to say to that. “Are you sure it’s not?”

“I mean, no, I can’t say with absolute certainty or anything, but... it just repeats. I think we’ve found everything we’re gonna find.”

Alby doesn’t really do optimism—he’s not as much of a pessimist as Newt is sometimes, more of a realist if anything—but he can’t let that linger, can’t even look directly at it for too long.

“So you don’t know for sure. Which means it might all be fine, and maybe tomorrow one of you will figure out something new, and we’ll all get out of here.”

“It’s not that bloody simple,” Newt snaps, and Alby bites back a retort, because he’s fucking trying, okay?

Instead he just says, “I know. Just... trying to help.”

Newt sighs. “Yeah, sorry. That wasn’t fair. Been a bad day, that’s all. Bad couple days.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You weren’t the one who put us here. Unless I’m missing something, in which case you might want to admit to it now while I’m too tired to kill you.” And sure, it’s almost all a joke, but Alby can’t help but feel like it’s a little bit true. For all that Newt is kind, for as much as he cares about every single person in the Glade, or maybe because of all those things, he has a hatred for the Creators like nothing else Alby’s ever seen from him.

Still, he’s pretty sure he’s safe from that kind of threat, or at least as safe as someone with no recollection of their past can be, so he says, “Not as far as I know.”

Newt’s quiet for a minute, and then he says, “What if it was one of us?”

“Why would we put ourselves here if it was?”

Newt shrugs. “I guess.”

He falls silent after that, and this time Alby lets him stay that way, at least for a while. Eventually, though, he checks his watch and realizes they can’t wait any longer if they want to eat, and starving isn’t exactly going to do Newt’s mood any good.

“Alright, you need to eat before dinner’s over. And shower, and then you can continue staring at nothing if you really want.”

“That genius for planning is why you’re second-in-command, huh?” Newt says with an asymmetrical smile, and Alby says, “Sure,” because sometimes Nick’s justifications for it don’t make a lot of sense to him either.

He gets to his feet and turns to pull Newt up with him, and they head for dinner. Frypan gives them a look for being late, and Minho spares a glance, eyes flicking from Newt to Alby before he nods just a little, but no one says anything about the way they arrive after everyone and as a matched set. They’ve all just got enough of their own problems, maybe. A lot of eyes still on the Greenie, too.

After dinner and showers and Alby spending the whole walk back fighting the urge to tuck the chunk of hair that’s fallen out of Newt’s mess of a bun back into place, they end up in the same spot, mostly hidden from where the rest of the Gladers are setting up for the night.

This time, Alby chooses the second option. He waits to see if Newt will talk, and when he doesn’t, he leaves the silence alone. It’s not a comfortable emptiness, not when everything Newt had said earlier still lingers, but pushing any further seems like it might hurt more than mend.

That’s one possible answer, at least. Another is that he’s scared to lean too hard on whatever it is between them for fear that it might break. A third is that he’s afraid of all the things that Newt might say. So he waits, and he hopes that his presence is any kind of reassurance.

Eventually, though, night starts to set in and he can’t justify keeping Newt awake any longer. He goes to stand up, but Newt’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist and good god, Alby sometimes forgets how fast he can move.

“Don’t leave.” Newt says, and Alby shakes his head.

“You should get some rest. Don’t want you running the Maze tired tomorrow.”

Newt says, “You being here doesn’t prevent me from resting,” which is true, sure, but not something Alby had been ready to assume. You don’t set up for the night in the middle of the woods if you want company, at least not in his own experience of things, but if Newt wants him to stay, what other choice can he make?

“Can I at least go get my own sleeping bag?”

Newt’s fingers uncurl in response, and Alby gently tugs his wrist away, going to collect his things. On the way back he runs into Nick, making the rounds before bed, which is a thing Alby usually accompanies him on except that he’s been a little distracted.

Nick’s gaze drops to the sleeping bag and pillow in Alby’s arms, and Alby mentally curses the sense of order that had led him to sleep in the same place since the beginning, meaning that now any kind of rearrangement looks unusual.

“Is everything okay?” Nick asks, brow furrowed.

Alby doesn’t lie to Nick. He doesn’t lie in general, really, but especially not to Nick because the Glade doesn’t function if communication between them breaks down. But this... he’s not ready to tell Nick what Newt suspects. It’s still only a suspicion, one that could easily be proved wrong, and he’s not ready to damage morale that badly without proof.

So he lies, or at least omits part of the truth. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Newt’s just in a mood, and I’m keeping an eye on him to make sure he’s not gonna be out of it in the Maze tomorrow.” There’s no point in trying to say it like he’d do this for any other Runner, not with the way he and Newt have been bound since the early days by something still unvoiced, but he can still pretend at least a little.

Nick knows there’s no truth to that last part at least, but Alby knows how much time he spends picking his battles, so he’s not surprised when Nick just nods. “Sounds good. Don’t want him getting injured.”

“Yeah. Sorry for ditching nighttime rounds.”

“It’s fine. You might have to take the Greenie tomorrow if the supply meeting goes over, so we’ll call it even.”

It’s an empty threat, given that Alby’s most useful skills as a leader lie in allotment and record-keeping, but he takes the way out Nick’s offering him. “Fine.”

Nick nods. “Alright, go ahead. Deal with whatever you’re dealing with.”

“Thanks,” Alby says, and heads back to the space in the trees.

Newt looks up when he approaches, propping himself up on his elbows. He mostly just looks tired now, which is an improvement at least, even if it doesn’t do wonders for Alby’s confidence in sending him out into the Maze in the morning. “Forgot you’re supposed to have a job to do. Wouldn’t have stolen you from Nick if I remembered.”

Alby spreads out his sleeping bag, laying down on top of it. It’s too warm in the Glade to sleep inside it, which kind of feels like an oversight on someone’s part. “I ran into him on the way back, it’s fine. He’s threatening to make me take over with the Greenie if the meeting tomorrow runs long, but it’s probably an empty threat. Hopefully.”

Newt worms his way close enough to bump Alby with a shoulder. “Be nice to the new kid, Albert.”

“I’m trying, he just talks so much.”

“Can’t be worse than Kuo.”

Alby snorts. “You haven’t met him.”

“I met him the first full day he was here!”

“For three minutes! And it’s not like he even asks a ton of questions, I can either answer those or deflect fine, but he’ll just say things and I have no idea how I’m supposed to react to them.”

“I’m sure he’s just scared.”

“Yeah, I know. I think he’s gonna get absorbed into the Builders soon enough anyway, he’s already halfway there.”

“That helps.”

“Yeah. I keep hoping that Nick will get that I’m shit at this, but I guess sometimes there aren’t other options.”

Newt shrugs. “You’re good at plenty of other things, and you haven’t killed a Greenie yet.”

“I don’t think I like ‘yet’ in that sentence.”

“I’m confident in your ability to not kill a Greenie. Better?”

“Yeah, sure.” Alby readjusts his pillow, doing his best not to acknowledge the root under his head because proximity takes priority over comfort right now. “Sorry. Didn’t come back just to complain.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Took my mind off everything a little.”

“Are you gonna be okay tomorrow?” Alby asks, knowing as he does that it’s probably only going to make Newt mad, but he can’t just not ask.

Sure enough, there’s a bite to it when Newt says, “I’ll be fine,” that hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Don’t get pissed off at me for caring about you. It’s just dangerous out there, and—“

“Yeah, I have figured that out, actually. I can take care of myself.”

“I never said you couldn’t, don’t start acting like I did.”

“No, you just—“ Newt stops himself and sighs, looking away. “I’m sorry. I’m… yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Alby reaches out and interweaves his fingers with Newt’s, half-expecting him to pull away and ready to let go if he does. He doesn’t.

When he wakes before dawn with Newt’s face pressed into his shoulder, Alby thinks he could almost be happy staying in the Glade like this, but only almost. One of them has to believe they’ll get out of here, and if that means he has to play at optimism for a while, it’s one more role he’ll do his best to handle.

[neoyi]

I don’t think I’ll ever get to humorously commentate on KH2 piece-by-piece as I tried to do for the first two games (and god knows if I’ll wrap up Re:chain of Memories with the writing method I was doing, but I digress.) I like talking about this endearingly dumb series and replaying this game is a nice opportunity to revisit how I feel now versus how I felt back when I was a fresh-out-of-high-school Neo playing this game for the first time back in 2005.

So I’m going to surmise my current play session (this collects my thoughts up to the Hercules world) with easily containable bullet points.

*I kind of want to make a separate post about the infamous prologue and discuss how people felt Back in the Days (an understatement, let me tell ya), and ultimately what I feel it does for the game and whether I personally liked it, so I'm going to leave that in the back burner for the time.

I will say Twilight Town sounds like a nice, quiet place to live. I love the concept of a city that's always perpetually sunset. It's a beautiful place and like Traverse Town, sports an amazingly cozy soundtrack.

*I'm sure there's some bullshit reason why, but I don't get why Sora's one year absence meant some of the people he's met just....forgot him. Like why? What purpose does this serve? This especially affected Kairi, but it’s ultimately negligible because she regains her memories of him during the beginning portions of the game.

Was this Namine's doing? Was it to protect Sora from the bad guys or something? Why hasn't Riku forgotten him? Was Namine just selective on who she erased Sora's existence from? Did Kairi forget just because she’s connected to Namine? Or Sora? What purpose does this narrative serve? What was the point?

*Speaking of, I forgot, did they ever explain why Riku disguised himself as Ansem? I don’t remember if they ever explained it when I played through this game, but also I haven’t touched KHII in six thousand years, so I don’t remember a lot of the more convoluted parts of the plot.

*It is comical to see Setzer of Final Fantasy VI fame turn from a risky, gambling sky pirate who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the empire, only cares for the freedom of the skies, and enduring survival’s guilt over a tragic loss of someone dear to him into a...

Whiffle Bat Champion.

*My sheer excitement and obsession when they first announced Vivi as one of the FF cameo was astronomical. I remember keeping a DeviantArt journal detailing any news and screencaps of the little guy pre-release. Still my favorite character from the whole franchise.

Even if he suffers the same fate as Donald and has a zipper on his mage hat for absolutely no reason other than this game existing during Nomura’s Belt-and-Zippers phase.

*Someone’s going to get sued one day because these damn kids keeps sitting atop the clock tower that has yet to be grafted with bars to prevent their inevitable deaths when one of them slips and falls.

*I swear I could play a six degrees of Kingdom Hearts with all the voice actors in this game. Or at least a "Whozit" and "Whatzit" they've done in other media (like Yuffie who is voiced by Mae "Katara" Whitman here. Pre-Avatar, even.)

Also I’m sorry, Will Friedle, you’re a fine voice actor, but you’re...Terry McGinnis. Batman told me he “totally owned all you lamers.”

*I love the Nobody enemy designs. The sheer creepiness and uncanny valley of them all lends credit to their existence as, well, non-existences. The Dusk enemy design alone is inspired with its unsettling belts wrapped around its fingers, or terrifyingly sharp teeth subtly hidden inside of its mouth. I can imagine the creature unzipping its mouth to reveal a set of flesh-eating teeth and the fear is real.

I love the way it flies and circles around its victim, almost like it’s trying to wrap itself around you, but I’m especially fond of that one attack where it essentially kicks you as while it sashays over to you upside down.

The Samurai Dusk also has my favorite reaction command. It’s just unspeakably badass.

*I never liked Squall in FF8 back then (don't know how I'd feel now if I ever replay FF8) and he was just okay in the first Kingdom Hearts, but I remember I really endeared myself to his reappearance in KHII. Squall in this game is what happens when he grew up, found good friends and family, and got some therapy for his issues. He’s stoic, but always a team player, and supportive of Sora and the people around him. KHII Squall is what FF8 Squall has the potential to be once he reaches adulthood and it’s nice to see that here.

*I really love the little changes the developers inputted for Sora, Kairi, and Riku's models to accommodate for their physical growth. Riku's is the most obvious (boy clearly ate his vegetables), but I like that you can tell Sora grew not just through story observations (Yen Sid points out how he outgrew his old garbs) but by comparing his height in relation to Goofy. Sora was shorter than him in the first game, but has since outgrown him in KH2.

Along with his better skill set during combat, this is a really nice way to visually shown how far Sora has come and how much time has passed.

This also goes in the opposite direction with Namine whom I think had to redo her mod when they remastered Chain of Memories for 3D. I notice she looks younger in that game than in KHII which would make sense at the time since it takes place a full year ago.

...Well, maybe. Can Nobodies age???

*Damn it, game, don’t give me a pouch containing 5,000 munny and treat it as an in-game key item that I can’t use even though munny is literally the currency I use to buy things.

*The retooling and emphasis on battle mechanics means the platforming element of the first really suffers and that’s a damn shame. I wasn’t particularly in love with exploring the Disney Worlds in the first KH, but I appreciate the effort put into so Sora could not easily get from Point A to Point B.

Even finding treasure chests is comical and if not for sake of posterity for anyone going for 100%, I wonder why Jiminy bothers to keep track of how many you find. There were literally like three out in plain view the minute I entered the Mulan world.

*Speaking of level designs, yeesh, the layout is not optimal for the skateboarding minigame.

*Trying to design a gummi ship in this game requires a masters degree in gummiology and metaphysical engineering, as well as the ability to tap into the 4th dimensional. The 45,000 page instructional manual they give you, the odd grid map used to piece together your ship (fair, the latter was also in the first game), and finicky button controller layout means it took me a while to fully grasp what I was suppose to do and I’m still not sure I got a full handle of it just yet.

*I don’t understand why Sora had to use a physical object as a conduit in each world to open up a metaphysical gate to the next world. He never had to use an in-between to close it. What’s the exception outside of unnecessary symbolic tie-in to the individual worlds he’s in?

*Props to the developers for recreating the ballroom. It’s actually kind of majestic to look at the beautiful ceiling and chandelier design from Sora’s perspective.

*There are a couple of random gameplay elements I forgot completely existed and seemingly there for arbitrary purposes. I just find it unusual that Mulan’s world forces you to collect literal manifestation of morale. It’s like the developers decided they wanted to reuse the Struggle minigames’ balls into a repurposed Morale Ball because well shit, someone programmed these things they’re damn well going to put it to good use.

I guess if Sora and pals don’t literally collect morale, all the soldiers will be, I don’t know, sad and die in battle or something.

*I’m aware Disney villains using the Heartless as their personal army is the norm, but it’s tonally weird when it’s Shan-Yu of all characters doing it. The infamous Charge-In-The-Snowy-Mountain scene doesn’t quite have the leg up in terms of threat when his army consist of adorable Heartless bumblebees.

*You know what pointless shit I am obsessed with? The stupid puzzle pieces scattered throughout the game. This is the first time I’m playing the Final Mix game and I’m just seething at the lack of abilities I currently do not have that prevents me from reaching certain pieces.

*Auron was instantaneously my favorite character when I first played FFX twenty years ago, and his return in KH2 sent me in fangirlish squeals. How could I not? Look at this handsome bastard. He’s calm, collected, badass with a cool sword, has rugged good looks (he doesn’t have it here, but he rocks some killer shades), and a good dad. That’s prime DILF quality right there. Of course I can’t get enough of him.

Square Enix knows we can’t get enough of him; dude be all “fuck off hades” and gives the god the middle fingers and fucks off elsewhere. Auron is King Shit.

*Oh man, do I still have my old Sora figurine? I think I got him in Katsucon way back in 2009.

*So who’s done a drinking game every time the game introduces Sora, Donald, and Goofy individually to every character they meet?

*Hey, so I noticed Square Enix is finally moving their asses and bringing the Ultimania books to the US. I doubt they’re going to bring the older KH Ultimanias overseas (my kingdom for an officially translated FFIX one), but ya know. I kinda think that yeah, I might want the KHIII Ultimania.

...Just saying.

*GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK! GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK! GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK! GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK!

GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK!

[interpolsantics-blog]

I’m Looking Forward To Joining You, Finally

okay you guys, it’s Johnny Silverhand/Reader Time. i want to say that i originally posted this on AO3 a while ago but i actually want to put it up here for the Tumblr crowd to enjoy, so here we go. it’s really long for me (it’s over 3500 words) but it’s also one of my favorite things i’ve written so far!

warnings: this is pretty gross tbh and shows why i should not be allowed creative freedom. it’s got degradation, choking, denial and overall a lot of roughness plus Johnny-boy being a condescending hoe. so uh... tread carefully.

So fucking good, you think, feeling your body rapidly rock back and forth, pleasure pumping through your veins with each thrust. It’s so sweet, like honey on your tongue, yet it always seems to leave far too quickly. His hand is wrapped firmly around your throat, not to choke, but to keep you firmly in place as he fucks you hard on the sort-of-dirty mattress on the floor of your sort-of-dirty apartment. Not like the environment matters; all that matters it this wonderful moment you were having, getting a fucking you need.

Jolting awake in a cold sweat, your clothes cling to your body, your blanket is tangled awkwardly around you, and a funny nausea begins to infect your whole body. You shoot up like a rocket, confused, embarrassed, and turned on all at once. Glancing panickedly around your apartment, your embarrassment morphs into mortification at the entire situation. Johnny’s in your head. Johnny knows what’s going on, what you’re thinking, and nothing you dream or do can escape him.

You devise your plan of action: swallow thickly, take in a few deep, intense breaths, and lie back down. Peeling your blanket totally off you, you feel disgusted - the cold sweat made everything stick to you in one of the worst ways known to man, and you’d rather not feel any dirtier than you do right now. You try to reason with yourself in an attempt to slow your pulse: maybe he doesn’t see your dreams - they’re like some kind of liminal space he has no access to, maybe he knows everything that went on and he’s going to give you hell for it, maybe this is just a fluke, maybe maybe maybe. Fuck it. “Deal with it the morning” is the best philosophy right now, and you pray that you don’t dream again of the dirty mattress you sleep on or of honey, or of the perpetual rocking reminding you of the ocean - what a romantic way to think of it.

Realistically, it was a hedonistic, rough fuck.

-

When you see him the following day, he is… normal. Disaffected. He does not make any allusions to dirty mattresses or honey, which is a very faint relief. Perhaps you were right: he can’t see into the liminal space known as your dreamworld. It’s not much, but it helps you breathe a bit easier when all you’ve felt is mortification. But the masochist in you wants to have more dreams like that, hungry for the rush of his hands, his mouth, his cock - hungry for him,  all of him. The normal(?) part of you, however, is still reeling and cringing in embarrassment at the entire ordeal. Since you’re ever the optimist, a part of you is Absolutely Fucking Sure that he knows of your filthy desires and is waiting for the perfect opportunity to taunt you about it. You lean towards your "optimism" and try to be extra-cautious, like he’s a bomb ready to go off. He doesn’t seem to notice, since you only act that way a little bit. After all, you’re not  that worried. Who are you kidding? You’re petrified, God help your poor stupid soul.

-

His fingers pump in and out of your cunt at the perfect rhythm, while his thumb rubs your clit, making you gasp and writhe under his hand. His chest is pressed against yours and his face is buried in your neck and he bites and sucks the sensitive skin, and you feel owned. It’s a nice feeling, to be owned by him, knowing he’s the one in charge, that he can take care of you and do it oh-so-perfectly well. On the brink, so very close, you open your mouth, ready to ask for his permission to cum.

It’s a very brutal moment when you wake up again. Fuck, is all you can think. Well: you now know that this is definitely a Problem. And he’s probably aware of it. So, you decide to devise another genius plan, this time for when he inevitably confronts you about how desperate you are for him in all the right wrong ways: you’ll just play dumb. Say “Huh, well, I don’t remember my dreams. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s a bullshit defense, you know it, and he probably knows it, too. But there isn’t much left that you can do - the whole situation feels almost overwhelming, like it’s too fucking much for you to deal with. All you can do is try to sidestep it in every single way that you can, and dodge the questions that will come up. But then again, maybe you’re overreacting.

You close your eyes and go back to sleep, blanket still on you - you didn’t break out into a cold sweat this time. Lucky you.

-

He does not interrogate, taunt, or look at you funny. You’re beginning to wonder if he genuinely doesn’t know what’s going on. The whole “dreams as locked liminal spaces” thing may just be the reality of the situation. There’s a chance you have free reign over what you dream, whether it be about Johnny fucking you silly or him taking an ax and hacking people to pieces. He doesn’t see it.

You’re still not all the way sure, though. He could be just playing the long con, lurking and waiting to see if the third time’s the charm and it finally, unequivocally solves the riddle of whether your wet dreams are reflections of how much you need him. Or, if it shows that it doesn’t have much to do with either of you, but rather these dreams are reflections of how you need to get laid really, really badly, and you’ll dream of some other person fucking you. The more you think of it, the latter idea is true - you just need to get laid. Something like that.

-

“You are such a slut. It’s actually kind of impressive.”

Red in the face, you fidget somewhat as he looks down at you, leaning down just a tiny bit. “Unbelievable,” he declares, turning his head away from you for a second before looking back. “It’s incredible, how badly you need to be fucked.”

“Uh, I-”

“Don’t,” he snaps at you, turning and pacing the room. You’re still sitting on the dirty mattress, fully clothed, and feeling small in the best way possible. “I’ve heard everything I need to hear,” he says nonchalantly. There’s a pause.

“Alright, up, on your knees.”

You stare dumbly at him for a second, feeling paralyzed while he unzips and pulls his cock out. Unamused by this, he roughly grabs a fistful of your hair, forcing you up on your knees and you open your mouth so he can shove his cock down your throat. He lets out a loud groan of approval when you take him easily while you choke a bit and excitement bubbles inside you. “So good,” he declares, “so fucking good.”

This is getting fucking boring.

Pacing around the apartment, looking much less cool than he did, you muse on your issues. The “naughty” factor is gone, but there’s still lingering paranoia. The past couple of days, you’ve dealt with each other as usual, but you can never shake the feeling that he Knows about your sleep antics. It follows you, like a ghost, and it’s not fun anymore - maybe it kind of was at first, when you felt like a schoolgirl. But you aren’t one - you are a person with feelings that are totally normal, right? Right? And, fuck, you disliked those feelings and how dirty and lustful they made you, well, feel. But at the same time, it felt nice to have the same pleasant dreams played over and over again every single night, at least at that moment.

It occurs to you that philosophizing is pointless. The morality of it or how it makes you feel is irrelevant, since you can’t control your dreams. You’ll just have to suck it up, and it’s probably for the best. Who gives a fuck what Johnny thinks about it, anyway? Well, okay, you do, a little bit. A lot a bit.

-

All bare skin and smiles, you glance up at him. He seems to loom over you, larger than ever before, dressed in his usual garb. He kneels and fondles you for a few moments before leaning in your ear to say something, but it comes out strange and empty, as if radio static had entered your ear, but you don’t question it. Hand snaking down ever-so-slowly, he pushes his fingers into you again, and you arch into his hand, preparing for another intense finish.

Another night, another fuck dream, although this one seems strangely off. Good. Hopefully, it’s a sign that your brain is cooling off from whatever high it’s been on where you feel the urge to pounce on dream-Johnny. Tonight is strange, though, since you feel a particularly harsh pounding in your cunt, which is… unusual. Sure, you always wake up horny - who wouldn’t? - but tonight seemed to be especially intense, perhaps because you’ve been having these dreams night after night with no release. You know for a fact that if you masturbate Johnny will know, and you weigh it all in your head for a moment.

Maybe this is all one big conspiracy. Maybe he wants you to fuck him, but he can’t tell you directly, so he keeps messing with your head so you have dreams about fucking him all the time. Maybe this is all some kind of weird test or torture put in place by him because he secretly loathes your guts. Or maybe - just maybe - you are a lunatic who is looking far too deep into the world of dreams and is expecting answers where you clearly won’t find any.

Whatever. If he doesn’t like you masturbating, he can fuck off.

So you masturbate. It’s nothing insanely special or exciting - the feeling of your fingers rubbing your cunt is a nice, familiar one, you’ve gotten a fair amount of practice at that - and you sink into your dirty mattress when it’s said and done, feeling relief creep over you. It’s not a wave, it’s more of a gentle rain, coming slowly and lightly. And then, you go back to sleep, into the black, endless ocean where you don’t see anything.

-

You’re on your dirty mattress once again, fully clothed, a light-airy-dreamy feeling coming over all of you, making you feel very serene. Johnny is there, of course, looming over you as always, and you quietly glance up at him.

“I’m a little offended,” he says, facing towards you, but you can’t tell where he’s actually looking- he’s still got his sunglasses on.

“Huh?” Your voice is incredibly soft and concerned.

“All this time,” he begins, slowly pacing back and forth in front of you, “and all these dreams. You don’t think I can do better?”

"What?" The question comes out too loudly, as if your volume button is broken.

“You heard me.” He’s still pacing slowly, but he stops and turns your way to look at you (you think). “All these lovely dreams you have about me fucking you and that’s how good you think I am?”

That fucking asshole knew you were going through this, and didn’t say or do anything. You open your mouth to defend yourself, but he stops you.

“I can do much better. I fuck better than these cute little ideas you’ve dreamt up, but I don’t think you realize that. For starters, if I was pounding that messy little cunt of yours, I’d actually, you know,  talk to you. But, to be fair, I  would have my hand around your throat.”

At this point, you are incredibly red, feeling several emotions go through you at once. Scouring your brain for a response, you find yourself empty-handed - you had nothing to say for yourself.

There’s a moment where he just stares at you, and you shift uncomfortably, trying to find any kind of words.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” The question is genuinely curious, and your voice is soft again.

“I wanted to see how far it would go,” he says nonchalantly, turning his head to glance to the side before looking in your direction again. “It went pretty far - you are a slut. Thanks for the show last night, by the way. It wasn’t bad at all.”

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

He doesn’t say anything and moves towards you, slowly. “On your back,” he commands, and you comply immediately, practically on instinct.

He finally reaches you, lifts his foot, and plants it firmly on your sternum, the fabric of your shirt the only thing separating the bottom of his thick black boots from your skin. “You really thought you could get away with it. You really thought I wouldn’t know you were constantly dreaming about fucking me.”

He presses down a bit more, and you struggle to get the words out - but you get them out. “I thought it was you,” you whisper, a bit of a wheeze coming out. “That you were fucking with my hea-”

“Oh no, no, no. That was all you,” he says, still nonchalant, applying even more pressure, causing you to become ever-so-slightly afraid. “I had nothing to do with it, but it’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with being a whore.”

You don’t say anything once more - you’re so in shock, you hardly believe it’s happening this way. But somehow, you know it’s him. It’s an innate feeling, like the dream-him was an off-brand version and seeing the genuine article is undeniably different.

He takes a step back and pulls off his sunglasses, and you can see his eyes are staring directly at you for sure this time.

“Strip.”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do, but you realize this is everything you could’ve asked for, so you obey. It’s a quick process, since you’re not wearing a lot of clothing to begin with. Once you finish, he eyes you up and down, seemingly approving of what he sees before getting down and crawling on the bed with you, straddling your hips. The sensation of his weight on top of you is a unique one. While he leans over, you reach up and try to take his vest off, but he smacks your hand away using your metal one and you let out a hiss of pain and wonder if that was necessary. “That is not how we’re doing this. Understand?”

You nod, rather meekly.

“Good.”

He leans down and slams his lips roughly against yours, tongue plunging into your mouth and exploring. A little gasp of yours escapes into the kiss, and for a few seconds, the two of you make out while you let out little noises the entire time. It ends as quickly as it begins and he pulls away, using the non-metallic hand to grab at your breast. He gently tugs at your nipple, making you let out a high-pitched whine. Pleased with this response, he goes towards your neck, sucking and biting as he did in the previous dreams you had, and you relax and lean back to he can get a better shot.

A single, cold, metallic digit probes at your cunt, seemingly out of the blue, making you jump a little. You relax quickly though and exhale sharply, shutting your eyes and trying to lose yourself in the sensation. His voice is low in your ear, surprising you and making your eyes shoot open. “Absolutely soaking wet. Why am I not surprised at all? It’s exactly what I’d expect from a slut like you.” His fingers curl in the right way and his thumb moves up to rub your clit, heightening the sensation. Moaning a bit louder know, you arch your back, feeling your breasts push against his chest. It’s a strange sensation, but you find a unique pleasure in it. Looking up at his face, he’s got a smile that reminds you of an old slasher movie villain. He seems quite happy to finally fuck you like you’ve wanted in your dreams. It makes sense, and despite the smug aura coming off of him, you can’t complain. He’s literally giving you what you’ve dreamed of.

He abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, making you let out another whine of dismay. Laughing at your disapproval, he puts his fingers up to your lips, and he doesn’t even have to say anything - you lick his fingers clean, tasting the mixture of your juices and metal. Withdrawing from your mouth, he reaches down to unzip his pants and pull out his cock, and you lie back and just wait for him.

He pulls your legs open and places his hands on your hips with enough pressure to bruise. While he’s pushing his cock into you, you moan a little too loudly, which you know must amuse the hell out of him, but you’re too lost in the sensation to care. Wasting no time, he immediately begins pounding you so fast it practically makes you dizzy and leans down to growl into your ear.

“For all the shit I said, I do appreciate the sentiment. I’ll fuck you any way you want, you know, because I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. I think you’ve been wanting this a while too, haven’t you? Yeah? That’s good. Don’t you just love the feeling of my cock inside you? I bet you do. It’s nice to know I always have somewhere to go when I need a nice fuck.”

You can't think of a reply; you're just so excited and exhilarated all you can do is moan and nod enthusiastically at his words, while he leans down towards your neck again, leaving more bites - perhaps it's a subconscious thing for him to mark you as his.

After some more bites, he wraps his metallic hand around your throat and applies enough pressure to choke, heightening the sensation even more.

“This is important,” he breathes in your ear, “I need you to tell me when you’re going to cum, okay, slut?”

You nod, but for whatever reason, he doesn’t like that. “Answer me with words, idiot.”

“Yes,” you rasp out, trying to just focus on the sensation. Not quite there yet, you get a lot closer to orgasm when his hand reaches down to rub your clit faster.

"I-I'm gonna cum," you gasp out, writhing a bit - it's an assault on nearly all of your senses, almost too much to handle.

And he fucking stops. Pulling out completely, he leans back on his heels and strokes his cock absentmindedly.

A little noise of confusion escapes your lips before you sit up slightly, looking at him. “Why’d you stop?”

“You need to learn how to be patient.”

Sighing, you reach down to rub your cunt, but he smacks your hand away again. “Don’t. I control your orgasms now.”

Shuddering a bit, you ask, “Can you at least keep fucking me?”

“Not until you beg.”

Whimpering, you look at him and begin to plead, “Please fuck me again, please? Pretty please?” He laughs a bit, but slides back in and you joyfully cry out as he resumes, same speed and roughness as before. “Remember, when you’re ready to cum, you need to tell me.” The statement doesn’t need a real response.

Unsurprisingly, the rough fucking and clit-rubbing brings you close again, so you inform him (rather quietly) that you’re about to come, and he stops. Again.

“Come on!” you whine like a petulant child, “what do I do this time?”

“I want you to explain something to me: why should you be allowed to cum?”

There’s a moment where your brain freezes up on what to say or do, but ideas begin to rattle around in your head and you come up with a seemingly reasonable point. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked without question,” you squeak.

“Such as…?”

“When you asked me to strip, I stripped, and you didn’t even have to  tell me to clean your fingers off.” The words come out quick, almost panicked, and you pray to God he’ll listen and let you cum. It felt like you were going to die if he didn’t.

There’s a moment where he stops stroking himself and seems to mull it over, and he nods. “You’re right,” he says in a calm, even tone of voice before slamming back into your cunt. It feels better than anything else this world can offer, and you squeeze your muscles around him, eyes rolling back when he resumes rubbing your clit. “So fucking good,” he growls into your ear, and you can only moan in response. “I’m gonna cum,” you politely inform him, and he merely smiles at you. “Go ahead and cum.”

Finally, you cum, clenching tightly around him and feeling relief wash over you - this time in a wave. Knowing your frustrations were finally put to rest was one of the best moments of your life.

He cums shortly afterward, grunting and growling in his own, interesting manner before flooding your cunt, making you let out a gasp of pleasure from the feeling. Quickly getting off of you and lying beside you, he begins to stroke your cheek softly with a single, metal finger, and you wake up. Not in a cold sweat or too early - just relaxed and content.

Seeing him that day in the Real World, you smile at him. He boldly declares, “I think that was good for the both of us, samurai.”

“Sure it was.”

That night, you don’t dream of anything, but it’s a positive thing - the silence is peaceful.

[scrollsofeternity]

Naivety is my middle name || Kamiya || Trial 2 || Re: Imogen, Chiharu, Hisashi, Alphonse.

As rough as this situation was, as much as everyone was all either conflicted or vocal about their thoughts. The current situation was that Imogen was dying, that was plain and simple... They had to be ready for that, yet as Chiharu gave her speech about being there for Imogens girlfriend... Well, that caused Kamiya to give a grin, nodding along enthusiastically in response to that with his signature shark-like grin and a thumbs-up. 

"You can count me in on talkin' t' yer girlfriend! I mean, I ain't as good at givin' big-ass speeches like the softies over there, but Maki said everythin' I wanted t' really say too... Yer a real good coach, ya know that? Ya ain't like most'a the others I dealt with growin' up... Ya actually gave a shit, yeah? So count on me t' keep everyone on the right path right now, okay? Yer girlfriend is gonna know all 'bout how fuckin' cool ya were, okay? I'll hype ya up bigtime."

Ah well, that aside, Kamiya scratched the back of his head, listening to Hisashi's comment, however, caused him to smile again. They were a noble bunch...? That was the nicest thing Hisashi had ever said to them! Maybe he was warming up to them? That was hopeful! It caused him to look over to him, looking as upbeat as ever.

"Ya can join in the noble bunch too, bro! Ya just gotta say somethin' nice, start by sayin' somethin' nice 'bout me! It's real easy! I promise!"

That aside... As Alphonse started speaking, he paused for a moment... Talking to Tsubasa's family was something he intended to do as well, which caused him to let out a sigh, kind of just leaning against his podium as his smile finally dropped, deciding to be serious for once in his life.

"...Of course I planned on talkin' t' others families, bro. I think I showed Tomimoto some good kindness, yeah? It's just... The people who are dead ain't around t' hear it, yeah? There's no use declarin' somethin' t' the heavens fer people who ain't 'round t' hear it... They're gone, an' the actions we're gonna do'll speak louder than spoutin' on 'bout moral-bullshit or whatever. But if it makes ya feel better? It was on my agenda t' write songs 'bout 'em all an' give 'em t' their folks t' try to soften the blow a bit."

He was even going to make it free of charge for once! Yet at the mention of killing? He went silent for a moment, saying that more people were going to die made sense... But there had to be some optimism there, right? They were going to live. There was no way any of them would kill again, right? 

"It's happened twice, yeah, but I don't think it's gonna happen 'gain! Call it dumb intuition or somethin'! But I think through it all we ain't all wantin' people dead, yeah? I think if we really put our heads t'gether we can figure this shit out an' not get offed or nothin' yeah? So quit that negative thinkin'! Killin' ain't gonna happen again! I'm positive!"

He stated, as I proceeded to look at how it's only chapter 2.

[bob-dude]

Beast Morphers, a breath of fresh air.

My reaction can be summed up by the old Nostalgia Critic line of: Effort, Honest to God effort. Though, to go in more detail:

1. Like the gym and the martial arts class, gives MMPR vibes while being modern enough to still be it’s own thing.

2. Blaze and Devon’s little sparing session might have it’s logical holes to it, but I think it works in the more important bigger picture of establishing their soon to be rivalry as well as Devon’s fighting skills as a whole. Plus, it’s just a damn solid fight scene, ‘instructor going to far/Blaze in the right’ logic be damned.

3. Holy shit, Comic Relief that’s actually funny. I mean, keep away the fart gags and keep up the same energy as the Security Duo had going on in this episode and we’ll be golden. In all seriousness, I do like that Ben and Betty (well, mostly Betty) have their hearts in the right place and try to go out and help when shit goes down. They’ve at least got a better moral head on their shoulders than Victor and Monty ever did, which is probably why I liked em along with the comedic timming actually working this time around. One gag I did like was how Betty stands on a step ladder at the desk, it’s a cute little visual gag that get’s her lack of height across without being overly in your face about it.

4. Ravi’s been called the most stiff of the rangers but unlike, say, Samurai’s Kevin I think it fits the character far better. Like, at least in my book i saw it more as a purposeful restrained kinda vibe. A sort of ‘Just the Facts, Miss’ deal.

5. I’m actually really liking Devon as a character. He’s got skills, sure (but he’s not from a real Samurai family) but he’s kinda used to coasting through life and his desire to see the Grid BattleForce Holodeck thingy gives me shades of how Caarrrranger Red just wanted to drive his boss’s cool car at first. Plus, finally a dad that isn’t MIA/Dead. Freaking FINALLY!

6. Blaze might have been a jerk, sure. But being a jerk isn’t the same as being evil, evil avatar dopples not withstanding.

7. Another thing I like is how we get the name of the city and the basic gist of the show. Samrurai was so bad about this we learned it’s city’s name by way of a driver’s license.

8. The bad guy name drops don’t make 100% perfect sense but after years of ‘What’s a Power Ranger?’ I’ll take call back and continuity nods where I can get em. Plus, honestly, the writers probably just picked it because at least two of those names are from the most recent seasons (Dino Charge and Ninja Steel) than anything else.

9. Multiverse theory is fairly common knowledge, which I just think is rad all around. 

10. Like how Jackie was apart of the training and just didn’t make the cut. It’s a simple line but in this new age of ‘Who needs explanations? lol’ writing in TV and movies, it’s nice to get a passing reference to something like that. Plus, Jackie’s actress just sells the optimism and energy of her char.

11. This episode was all original footage and I’m perfectly okay with this. Like, don’t get me wrong, sentai has some damn good fight scenes but I’ve grown increasingly unimpressed with the mecha battles for years by this point.

12. The episode feels small in scale but not claustrophobic or disappointingly small. Like, we get just enough taste of the ranger’s powers and fights to want more vs trying to cram in a henchmen + monster of the week + mecha battle all within 22 some minutes. Gives it a more interpersonal vibe that I dig.

13. Actually really liked the interactions with Roxy and Ravi, both in the locker room and in the flashback. It’s enough to give us that they have a history as well as why they broke up (Ravi seems like a stickler for the rules, at least for this first episode).

14. Gee, Bandi of America, maybe if the sentai didn’t have a great toyline ya should have, oh I don’t know, MADE YOUR OWN FREAKING TOYS TO GO WITH THE LINE YA FREAKING DUMBASSES!

15. Please tell me Chip gives a shit about LupinPat, Kyuranger, and Rusolder. Because the difference of when he actually gives a shit about the sentai in question and when he doesn’t is night and freaking day.

16. Commander Shaw being Ravi’s mom is just freaking beautiful. She’s like one big giant middle finger to Neo Saban’s lack of moms. And gives me Director  Aya Odagiri from Jetman vibes. This is a good thing.

17. This is a small thing but I really like the unmorph sequence. Good use of the environment, solid battle dialogue (no puns, actual insults!), plus, it ultimately shows why the ability to Morph and even up the score is needed in the first place. Sure, just because your good a karate and can fight doesn’t mean the enhanced physical abilities/special powers that most PR/Super Sentai members are implied/shown to have (depending on the season) aren’t a step up and put you on a more even playing field with the forces of evil or whatever.

18. I could point out some of the cliche lines in the episode (”You got to believe me!” and others like it) but I’m way past the point of caring if some well used chestnuts are thrown in here and there. Cliches are the nuts and bolts of communications, after all.  

19. Like how Commander Shaw was willing to take Devon’s warning seriously. Evox still messed shit up but that’s not for a lack of competence on Grid Battleforce’s part (maybe their software but hey, even Zone Alarm has it’s limits I guess).

So, yeah. Those are my thoughts on the first episode of Beast Morphers. It’s not perfect, but shit, nothing ever is and focusing on the minutia like “How does the Mayor know about Sledge he wasn’t a treat to the mainline PR universe!” is missing the point, I think. At the end of the day, it’s such a step up in quality from Ninja Steel that I’m left wondering where the effort for that season was? Show might still tank in the end but as far as first impressions went, Hasbro knocked it out of the park on this one.

[icecoldparadise]

Don’t Touch My Family

Someone (I can’t remember who) asked for a follow up to Don’t Touch My Prince, but I don’t think they anticipated this becoming a sequel.. (I sure as hell didn’t.) 

No pairings! Just some good ol’, nonromantic familial LAMP here.

Some violence.

Word count: too damn much. (2736)

Don’t Touch My Family

 A sequel to Don’t Touch My Prince

             A quiet knock startled Virgil, who had been sprawled out on his bed reading a collection of Poe’s works. “Yeah?” He called inquiringly, and the door opened to reveal Logan. “May I come in?” Confused, Virgil nodded and sat up to make room for the logical side. The man sat down stiffly, appearing pensive. This put the anxious side on edge; what had he done wrong? Since failing to keep Princy safe a few days ago he had hidden in his room to avoid doing anything else wrong… Had Logan finally decided to bring justice to him? Logan noticed the apprehension and gave a small smile before glancing at the dark man’s wrapped hands. “How… How are you hands healing?” The uncertainty and worry threw Virgil for a loop. “Th-they’re okay, tender but nothing I can’t manage.” Logan hmmed a response, before finally looking his friend in the eye resolutely. “Virgil, I have been analyzing your apology for not being fast enough to take the hit for Roman the past few days, and I have… Attempted to find the most optimal way to talk to you about it.” Logan adjusted his tie and began fidgeting with his hands nervously. “I realized there is no optimal way so I will just come out with it.” Virgil peered at him warily as the logician turned to fully face the anxious side, unconsciously sinking further into his sweater. He hid his gaze from the intense brown eyes blazing behind the black spectacles. “When I told you to make sure Roman didn’t get punched, I never meant that I wished you to put yourself in harm’s way instead. I merely was requesting you do your best to diffuse the situation if possible, and if not drag the foolish man out of the situation.”

Virgil’s stomach dropped. “Sorry to have let you down so much, Lo.” The man said quietly, alarming Logan. Virgil was surprised when two firm fingers gently lifted his face to a shockingly warm, emotional Logan. “Virgil, you have not let me down in any way, shape, or form. I did not realize how angry the villagers would be and thus did not consider the effect on your well-being. The fact that you prevented Roman from being hurt further still falls into the parameters of keeping him safe.” Virgil began to protest, but Logan stopped him. “People act before we can, Virge. That is no error on your part.” Relief flooded the anxious side as a weight he didn’t even know was there lifted. Tears filled his eyes despite his desperate attempt to hold them back, and Logan pulled him in close in a surprisingly gentle hug. The dam broke and Virgil sobbed into the quiet man’s shoulder, releasing all of the self-directed anger and shame he had been holding since the incident. Logan rubbed his back soothingly; Virgil couldn’t help but smile as he knew Patton must have done that to Logan himself many times for the analytical one to utilize it so smoothly. Once he calmed down he reluctantly ended the embrace, hiccupping but smiling. “Thanks, Lo. Sorry I messed up your shirt.” Logan chuckled, a short brisk chuckle. “It is nothing of consequence. I can change later.” Logan carefully reached for Virgil’s hand and, once he saw the anxious side was alright with the contact, raised it to eye level with a critical eye. “These wrappings are too old and need to be changed. I will re-dress them in the kitchen.” Before Virgil could protest they had poofed to the kitchen table and Logan had already gotten up to get the first aide kit.

He gasped as scabs pulled open and felt horrible seeing Logan wince. “I’m

sorry, I’m trying to be gentle.” The darker trait shook his head. “It’s cool man, I

should’ve changed these sooner.” Logan didn’t show it, but he was deeply concerned about the wounds on his friend’s hands: they were an angry pink and a few looked white with infection, and they stretched across all of the poor man’s hands. Logan couldn’t help but glance up at the other in morbid awe. “You did this to yourself defending Roman?” Virgil nodded, turning a pale crimson when he realized just how hard he must have been punching the poor knight to have split his hands this badly. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.” Logan stated, focused on medicating and wrapping the wounds with—a smile???? Virgil couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t joke nearly enough, Lo.” The spectacled man glanced up for a moment. “I do not have the quick with like you and the others. It is not my forte.” He snapped the first aide kit shut. “There, much better. I will be monitoring your wounds from now on to ensure optimal healing.” Roman strode in as Logan finished speaking. “Optimal healing of what?” His eyes glanced to Virgil’s hands and a darkness flickered in his eyes. “Oh. Well what’s a few wounds in battle, right my Dark Knight?” He declared boisterously, trying to cover up the blatant guilt he felt regarding the situation. Logan seemed unamused by the antic but neither of the two quieter sides felt it necessary to rub salt in the metaphorical wound.

Virgil couldn’t help but noticed the previously vibrant purple bruises had slowly darkened and gained a yellow tinge, an unsightly sign the wound was healing. Roman’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Anyways, I’m off to reconvene with my poor villagers and considering last time, I thought it wise to ask the three of you to join me.” Patton popped in behind Virgil, frightening him horrendously with an enthusiastic “I think it’s a great idea Ro!” The darker side yelped and fell out of his chair, causing everyone to laugh light heartedly while the moral side helped him up. “Sorry kiddo, I didn’t know you were sitting there.” Patton apologized with a sheepish grin. Logan nodded thoughtfully. “Agreed, it would be wise to show up with more support in case things are still temperamental.” Without further discussion, the family of four embarked on their mini adventure to the council meeting. The nervousness knotting up inside Virgil was eased when they entered the room and felt a much calmer environment than he had been in last time. ‘Maybe we’ll be okay this time…’ The anxious side though, relief flooding through his being. The villagers smiled at them and took their seats so they could begin. As Roman prattled on with them about various things, one complaint in particular caught everyone’s attention. A young woman, possibly 19, nervously strode forward. “P-prince Roman? There have been some… Some rather intimidating bandits that have sprung up in the nearby forest. They’ve been getting bolder and threatening to come into our village and harm us, and I genuinely think they will soon.” Virgil’s fight-or-flight senses hiked without warning, confusing the man. The idea of a threat never made him this anxious before… Roman was about to respond when a rough voice said, “Oh, so you ARE smart for a little village girl.”

In the doorway stood five broad, gnarly bandits. Each of them had vicious looking scars and sneering grins that, had you asked Patton’s opinion, could quite literally curdle dairy. Thick biceps and sturdy legs provided a less than ideal image of the damage these fellows could inflict. Virgil, Logan and Patton quickly jumped to their feet and flanked Roman, who already had his sword out. “How dare you threaten my wonderful people! Begone, before I unleash a punishment so painful you will rue the day you were born!” The raiders laughed, a malicious grating sound that sent chills down every villager’s spine, before the leader grabbed a young boy and held a dagger to his throat. His parents cried out and rushed forward only to freeze when the man threatened to harm the child more. “One step closer and I cause him some serious harm!”

He didn’t know what he was doing. One moment, he was standing next to the others. The next an unconscious raider was collapsed on the floor bleeding and there was a child in his arms.

Logan and Patton gasped in shock as Virgil enveloped himself in shadows, morph-punched the cruel leader and snatched the kid before re-appearing next to them in less than a minute. They shared a shocked glance; none of the sides had ever realized how powerful nor how dangerous the darker trait could be when someone was threatened. By the look on said dark side’s face, neither did he. The remaining four raiders recovered from their shock and charged towards Roman. Villagers scattered in terror-induced panic and Virgil was about to shove the kid towards safety when he realized one of the bandits had blocked the path he was going to use. The anxious side quickly morphed outside, plunked the now crying child down and rejoined his friends. Roman was locked against one bandit, sword versus sword, a sheer battle of strength and power. Patton wasn’t too far away from Roman and was doing a shockingly good job against his assailant (who also seems surprised by the seemingly harmless man’s ferocity). Logan was holding his own with strong, calculated blows that Virgil didn’t even know how he knew, but was glad he did. His own opponent was a quick dagger-wielding fellow; he was glad he and Roman the two blade wielders instead of the other two.

The bandit sneered down, slashing his blade fancily. “Whatcha gonna do, little man? I have a blade and you don’t- the odds are against you.” His smirk disappeared as Virgil’s face slipped into a cold, hard and emotionless mask, began to shake a bit in fear as a slow sadistic grin stretched across in a monsterous fashion. “Clearly, you haven’t fought against fear before.” His voice was just slightly distorted enough to be used for a power play, icy hands shooting down the raider’s spine. He lashed out against the tiny man, but Virgil was fast. Dodging every fear-filled swipe Virgil landed quick jabs between ribs and into organs with his fingers, managing to get behind the burly man and clamber on his back. His smaller arms wrapped all too easily around the man’s neck, and within minutes the raider was unconscious on the floor. The anxious side was just turning to check on Logan when a loud smack echoed across the room, followed by a cry of pain and an even louder thump of a body hitting the wall. Patton… Virgil turned and sure enough the bandit was looming over the moral side, Patton struggling to get up from the disorienting blow. Logan had his attacker in a sleeper hold and couldn’t help. Virgil felt dread fill him as he watched the evil man wind up to hit Patton. I can’t make it..!!! Virgil thought anxiously, before Roman ploughed into the bandit’s side. Relief filled both the logical and anxious side’s bodies. They both rushed to their hurt friend, helping him sit up and inspect him for damage. Roman came over shortly after. “You okay Patton?” The prince asked nervously. Patton gave a small pained smile. “I’m good kiddo, just a bit jumbled up. Thank you for saving me.” The creative side couldn’t help but smile despite the gnawing guilt.

All seemed well.

Until a large hand grabbed Roman by the back of his neck and lifted him up, slamming him into the wall right next to Patton. His body crumpled to the floor.

The leader had woken up, and he was pissed. Virgil leapt up at him with a solid right hook, crying in pain as the fragile scabs from the first incident ripped open and bled anew. The leader glared down and wound up to land what promised to be an agonizing punch on the smaller man. Virgil raised his arms in defense and clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable.

SMACK!!!!

Virgil’s brow furrowed in confusion, and he lowered his arms to see why he didn’t feel the blow he heard only to stare in absolute awe.

Logan stood in front of him, a scarily livid expression on his face while the bandit leader looked absolutely horrified.

Logan had caught the man’s punch without flinching.

Slowly, Logan tightened his grip, and bones could be heard cracking as the leader howled in pain and began to sink to his knees. Logan leaned in a bit, adding extra pressure to the wounded hand. “Don’t. Touch. My family.” He near-snarled, voice still smooth as glass but brimming with underlying fury. He let go of the hand and the leader booked it out the door, his lackeys hobbling after in equal terror.

Silence filled the room. Roman, Patton and Virgil tried to comprehend what they had just witnessed. “Holy fuck.” Virgil whispered, awestruck. Logan turned to them, the fire still apparent in his eyes but slowly simmering down. “Virge, help me get them home will you?” Virgil nodded, noting the various bruises starting to form on the logician’s face and arms. Together they scooped up one of the badly wounded sides and they teleported into the kitchen, gently depositing their friends in a chair. The dark side got ice packs ready while Logan once again fetched the first aid kit, and together they tended to everyone’s wounds. Roman and Patton held the ice packs to their heads, occasionally placing them against other particularly painful spots. Virgil gently wrapped some bandage wraps around Patton’s head, who had a small gash that had gone unnoticed in the flurry of things. Both Patton and Roman were sporting gnarly, angry purple bruises on the side of their faces and across their torsos. Once they were patched up the two carefully got up and went to the living room, Roman conjuring a big comfy blanket fort for them to collapse into.

Logan and Virgil remained in the kitchen, looking over each other in critical silence. A small sigh escaped from Logan before he carefully raised Virgil’s bloody hand. Peeling back layers of stained cloth, the logical side delicately cleaned up the mess before tenderly applying ointment and rewrapping the injury without a word. He gently tugged Virgil into a chair before tending to smaller nicks and cuts the anxious side hadn’t even noticed he’d gotten. When the logician was quite satisfied he turned to put the supplies away, but was stopped when the anxious side firmly guided him to a chair. The usually skittish man was surprisingly adept at first aide; Logan was surprised to he had acquired find a few cuts and scrapes himself, but after replaying his grappling fight it made sense. He did not expect the pain to shoot up his arm when Virgil got to his hand that caught the punch. He instinctively whipped his hand back and gave a small cry. Virgil’s heart ached at the sound, guilt welling up. Much more carefully, he inspected the wounded hand for possible breaks. The unsightly amount of bruising and swelling implied there was, in fact, some sort of break or fracture. He peered up at Logan, who was avoiding his eyes as the realization also occurred to him. “Lo,” the anxious side began, “Why did you take that punch? You… You broke…” Logan cut him off with a soft voice. “Because that man threatened my family, and I had to protect you all at any cost.” Tears pricked at Virgil’s eyes; he could never imagine being considered anyone’s friend, much less their family.

Focusing as best as he could, he willed a cast into existence around the damaged hand. Logan seemed surprised. “I didn’t know you could do that.” Virgil cast his gaze down to the floor. “I’ve… Had to use them.” Logan was mortified and about to interrogate the elusive side when he felt arms around his torso.

Virgil was hugging him, tightly.

Logan carefully hugged back, deciding he could inquire about the cast usage another time. “Let’s go join the others.” He gently whispered after a few minutes, getting a small nod and sank them into the living room so the anxious side could keep his much-needed hold on the logical side. They all lay in the blanket fort, aching and in considerable pain, but content knowing they were with each other.

They were with their family.

 @storytellerofuntoldlegends

@justanotherpurplebutterfly

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@soft-blue-badger

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@pattykrabbies

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@randomslasher  this was for you :)

[logh-icebergs]

Episode 27: First Battle

January 798/489. The first season of Legend of Galactic Heroes is the prelude. With the opening of season two, the real first act begins; and it kicks off with an unplanned skirmish between an Imperial fleet and a training mission from Iserlohn. Not realizing that the forces they’ve encountered are mostly new recruits and trainees, the Imperial commander assumes that the cautious and uncoordinated movements of the enemy troops are a patented Yang Wenli Tactic™, and doesn’t attack very aggressively while trying to decipher the clever ruse. The delay gives the entire fleet of 10,000 ships that Yang mobilized from Iserlohn time to show up and say “boo,” scaring the Imperial troops away before the entire training mission is annihilated. During the short battle, Julian, who was there for training, manages to shoot down three Valkyries and a cruiser. Meanwhile on Odin, Reinhard negotiates political reforms, finances, and staffing from behind eyes as cold and empty as Oberstein’s.

Separation...

We’ve seen Julian separated from Yang before, but only in the context of Yang going off to have adventures while Julian is left behind watching wistfully after him.

Left back at the house while Yang and Dusty fight the PKC... (From episode 3.)

...Left on Heinessen while Yang sets out to capture Iserlohn... (From episode 6.)

...And of course left alone in a back alley while Yang goes on a stroll with Jessica. (From episode 10.)

In this episode, for the first time, it’s Julian who’s thrown into the middle of the action on his own, when an unexpected battle breaks out during a training mission. This feels like a kind of test run of the whole concept of Julian actually enlisting and going to war: For Julian, that means facing real split-second life-or-death decisions on his own for the first time, rather than just listening to Yang (or Poplan or Schenkopp or any of his other mentors) pontificate about tactics; for Yang, it means facing more tangibly than ever before the very real possibility that this war he’s been trying (unsuccessfully) to end will actually result in Julian’s life being cut short.

Yang may have any number of philosophical or moral objections to the continuation of the war and the role of the military in society, but there’s also a very simple reason he doesn’t want Julian to become a soldier.

The moment right before Julian launches into battle gives us the second ever departure from strict realism in LoGH’s cinematography, a glimpse into Julian’s mind where we find a snippet of memory (or imagination?) devoid of context: just himself and Yang, in blackness, talking about premonitions of death. With an emphatic shake of his head, Julian seems to physically force both his fear of death and thoughts of Yang out of his mind. For right now, he’s on his own.

...Okay did Julian have an emo phase no one told me about?

Julian, Alone

Icebergs readers would be forgiven for getting the impression that Julian is a main focus (if not the main focus) of the season one Alliance story, since I pretty much talked constantly about him all season. But of course that’s not true: Julian’s story so far has taken place in the periphery of the action, mostly via small gestures, body language, glances, smiles. This is the first time the narrative actually centers him, seeing the battle from his perspective and through his emotions.

Julian’s reaction to killing someone for the first time is intense but narratively understated. He’s overwhelmed, shaking; but this is what he signed up for, and still in the heat of battle he can’t spare time or emotional energy to dwell on it.

This moment is a) adorable, and b) a deft bit of commentary, with Julian chastising himself for almost shooting at an ally that flew into his path. Of course that’s how battle works: Killing the other guys is good; killing your guys is bad. In context Julian’s reaction makes perfect sense—it’s how he’s supposed to think—but I find it chilling.

His flashiest accomplishment is taking out a whole cruiser, which he does by having the presence of mind to hover right against the side of the ship to hide from its scope, and then use its own weapons to take it down. This was clever of him, but also lucky—more a result of right place/right time than incredible heroism or brilliant planning.

In this gorgeously directed sequence, the Spartanian mothership that Julian was anchored at is critically hit, and Julian just barely manages to launch before it explodes.

Once again the emotional difference between the deaths of allies and enemies is highlighted here. In a rage of grief over the deaths of the people he knew on his mothership, Julian shoots down the first Valkyrie he sees…

...when just shortly before he was almost killed himself by a Valkyrie pilot in exactly the same position, whose mothership he himself had just destroyed. Karma’s a bitch.

Phew. It’s an intense nine hours for Julian: His life is directly at risk for the first time—in fact he’s only saved from being shot down when Poplan picks off all three Valkyries that are going after him. He kills, albeit in an anonymous, impersonal way. He sees many people he knows and works with not return from this (meaningless, unplanned) battle. It’s a hell of a lot for a fifteen-year-old, and he both handles it well and is clearly struggling against feeling overwhelmed. 

Aww. <3

Yang

Meanwhile back on Iserlohn, Yang confronts the possibility of Julian’s death in battle by—with the calm and composed air of an objective commander—promptly sending every available ship out as reinforcements. 

I find Frederica’s forced optimism here actually quite irritating. Julian’s an untrained kid who should not be thrown into battle yet. “Don’t worry, he’s lucky!” is a meaningless thing to say, as Yang clearly knows.

Yang often uses the method of placing trust in someone to earn their loyalty, and this move is similar, but also serves a couple of other purposes: It lets him learn more about Merkatz’s tactical philosophy, and it also conveniently gives added justification to his plan to immediately mobilize the entire fleet and charge into battle. When the suggestion initially comes from Merkatz, no one can accuse Yang of acting rashly because Julian happens to be in danger.

I said this battle is a test run, and that’s how I feel Yang treats it for himself. He obviously cares about Julian a ton and doesn’t want him involved in the war; but Julian isn’t actually his child, or his family at all. The show has been a bit coy about the details of their official relationship so far (we’ll learn more soon), but the technical legal situation is basically that the government has paid Yang to put a roof over Julian’s head for a few years, and maybe teach him a bit about the ways of war while he’s at it, before Julian inevitably joins the military to pay the government back for putting him through school.

With Yang’s deep belief in self-determination, the coercive nature of this system for dealing with war orphans is among the reasons he’s opposed to Julian’s path—he doesn’t see it as really Julian’s own choice. Back in episode 3 he offered to take on Julian’s debt himself, but that suggestion wounded Julian’s pride. (From episode 3.)

Their current arrangement, then, is fundamentally tenuous: The most probable outcome involves Julian eventually going to battle and being killed; and since that’s been true from the beginning, despite Yang’s grumblings, I think that Yang’s forced stoicism in this episode comes partly from feeling like it’s not quite his place to display too much parental protectiveness or emotional attachment.

Yang doesn’t ask after Julian’s safety even when they’ve scared the Imperial troops away and the battle is over, but he can’t quite hide either his bracing against bad news or his intense relief behind that cup of tea.

Yang in season one: “I hate soldiers.” “I don’t want Julian to go to war.” “I don’t want Julian to have to kill anyone.” Yang in season two: “Holy crap he blew up a ship? All by himself?? Badass!!” ...I mean I guess if Julian *has* to be a soldier, he might as well be a good one, huh Yang?

...And Reunion

This is my favorite moment of the episode. Julian may have appointed himself Yang’s physical protector, but this time it’s Yang who appears like a knight in shining armor to rescue him. There’s so much relief, gratitude, and total emotional exhaustion in his laughter here.

The battle that began with Julian physically forcing Yang out of his thoughts ends with Yang’s fleet appearing on his radar screen just when the tide of battle was turning in the enemy’s favor. As a battle, it’s pretty anticlimactic and pointless. The scene that’s framed narratively as the climax of the episode isn’t the end of the battle, but rather Julian and Yang’s reunion.

Even though Julian just conducted himself admirably in battle and notched several kills, he is very much still a kid, as this shot emphasizes.

The reason everyone bursts into laughter here is that this little awkward display of scolding is so out of character, as well as factually inaccurate—I doubt Yang has ever bothered to tell Julian not to do dangerous things.

This awkwardness from Yang’s side is new—throughout season one he treated Julian with an easy, paternal-ish affection, praising him freely and ruffling his hair (a bit condescendingly) when he offered his own insights or boasted of his skills.

(From episodes 17 and 19.)

But the events of this episode are nothing if not symbolic of the fact that Julian’s in the process of growing up; and as Julian does grow up, it’s unclear exactly how they’re supposed to relate to each other—as parent/child? As family? As commander/soldier? As friends? I’ve already diagnosed Julian’s attachment to Yang as the early stages of a crush; and while I think Yang’s oblivious to that angle at this point, it also threatens to complicate their relationship going forward. This scene highlights the fact that, despite how close they are, there’s a tension that didn’t used to exist in the air between them; and if there’s one thing I can promise you it’s that we will be keeping an eye on that throughout the season.

Poplan and Konev!

Speaking of things to keep an eye on as we begin a new season, we also get to see more of Poplan and Konev during this battle: mentoring the trainees as they head off to fight; grumbling about the government; saving Julian’s ass; competing as always for the most kills.

I love this for two reasons. One, Konev is adorable—his syntax is funnier in Japanese, where he answers Poplan’s “dou iu imi da?” with a parallel “sou iu imi sa,” even making use of the emphatic particle sa to rhyme with the copula verb in Poplan’s sentence. (Literally the exchange is “What sort of meaning?” / “*That* sort of meaning.”) And two, this isn’t just random goofiness: They’re about to send kids into an unplanned and likely deadly battle, and banter like this has the effect of both encouraging and relaxing them.

Poplan plays up his cocky, goofball side to make the trainees laugh, but he also takes this battle and his job as their teacher very seriously…

...and as soon as the trainees are gone so is his confidence, as he turns to complain to Konev about being forced to fight with inexperienced pilots who will be no match for Reinhard’s troops. Discussing/arguing about politics is one of the many facets of their relationship, as we’ll see more later on.

Three of those 22 kills of Poplan’s come right in a row, as he saves Julian’s life by cleanly picking off three Valkyries that are chasing him. Do not think for one second that Poplan is just a background comic relief character: Not only does he take his role as mentor to the younger soldiers seriously, but when he says he’s a genius at piloting, he’s absolutely correct.

...and Heteronormativity

I’ve mentioned that Poplan plays the role of one of the show’s mouthpieces of heteronormativity, specifically a version of masculinity that’s centered around (many, many) sexual relations with women, and in this episode we see that clearly for the first time.

This raised pinky gesture refers, in 20th century Japan at least, to a (man’s) girlfriend/wife/mistress; I assume the same meaning survived 1600 years into the future? Translation note: Poplan actually says “there are more interesting things than piloting that I have to teach you about”—highlighting not just the importance of Julian learning all about sleeping with women, but his own implied expertise in the matter. (The verb is 教えてやる, oshiete-yaru, to do the favor of teaching something to someone.)

This exchange comes right after Julian comments that he doesn’t want to die so young, and right before he flies back into battle. Poplan’s innuendo and picking a fight with Konev serve a similar purpose to his cocky boasting to the trainees before the battle began: lightening the mood away from a focus on possible impending death, in order to help Julian relax a bit before plunging back into the fight. The impulse is kind, but the content of Poplan’s teasing is miscalculated. Julian doesn’t react with laugher, but rather seems uncomfortable and unsure how to respond—turning away with raised eyebrows, and only smiling after Konev changes the subject back to the battle.

Note the easy intimacy of Konev pushing Poplan’s head away here; body language communicates a ton in this show, and Poplan and Konev routinely occupy each other’s personal space with a comfort that’s rare among all the friendships we see.

Whatever Poplan’s intention, the effect of his speech is still to present a view of masculinity tied to (hetero)sexual prowess, and Julian doesn’t seem to relate. But Poplan isn’t a solo act—and Konev’s role as the other half of the duo is key to the overall tone of the scene. Far from seeming to take any offense at Poplan’s insinuations about his preference for crossword puzzles over sleeping around, Konev nonchalantly ignores Poplan and changes the subject. By not defending himself or seeming at all self-conscious, he undermines whatever Poplan was about to say about the duties of men, treating it as irrelevant and not worth engaging with. Konev provides not only an alternative model of masculinity to what Poplan espouses, but also a good example of exactly how seriously to take Poplan’s bluster—namely not at all.

Unlike Poplan’s exaggerated machismo, Konev’s habit of standing in the background of scenes staring at someone with an unguarded, fond smile is something Julian definitely *can* relate to. Konev...people can see you, you know.

Stray Tidbits

Reinhard has been busy over in the empire, enacting an impressive list of reforms, including freedom of the press, democratic constitutions (for local governments, I guess?), and...credit unions for farmers? Okie doke. Score one for benevolent dictatorship. The skill of both the animators and the voice acting in showing Reinhard’s utter heartbreak is so impressive; how can a few frames of animation convey the ice in someone’s soul this well?

Speaking of the animators’ skill, I love this page from the production booklet that comes with the season two LaserDiscs showing the details of Julian’s Spartanian pilot uniform—which patches and decals go where, how everything connects, a closeup of the glove. The righthand page says “helmet markings for Julian” at the bottom and “for the main helmet design, see separate section” at the top, which I find adorable. 

Dear Dusty, I know you were also really badass in this episode, and I promise sometime soon I will give you more space in a post than a few screenshots down in the tidbits section. <3

Daaamn, Yang is all prepared for the 798 Iserlohn pin up calendar. (Is that even a comfortable way to nap, Yang...??)

I’m so happy that the analogy sex:Poplan :: tea:Yang :: revenge:Oberstein is official LoGH canon.

The casual LoGH viewer might believe that this is the first glimpse we get of any Imperial Valkyrie pilots, but we at Icebergs are here to disabuse the world of such shallow readings: In fact we saw a Valkyrie pilot way back in episode 2 (5:57, go watch it). We have dubbed him Heinrich. RIP Heinrich, we hardly knew ye.

I can’t believe we’re already starting season two!! Thank you for journeying through a whole season with us, and buckle up—this show just gets better and better.

[spockandawe]

Top 5 reasons you like Windblade and Top 5 reasons you like Windscream (maybe Top 5 Transformers Pitch ship if you like but if not it ok)

OOOOH, all excellent questions!!!

Top 5 reasons I like Windblade

She doesn’t have the war background to give her societal context, just like Tailgate and Nautica don’t, but she’s so fascinating, because she’s put herself right in the middle of a political minefield

AND she went into this hornet’s nest (and stayed there, almost completely alone) because she thought it was the right thing to do

Plus oh my goodness the whole thing with not wanting to depose Starscream and trying to work with him, even while disagreeing him on a philosophical level? And even while he’s being… Starscream? It’s so rare to see a character in here who willingly dives into that kind of compromise instead of having to be fenced into it, and her doing this with Starscream despite how difficult he makes it, just. I love her so much.

Ahhhhh, that balance of idealism (and the sort of construction-focused ambition that goes with her flavor of idealism) against the way people keep trying to tie her down or cage her, and how she manages to hold onto her ideals even while the world is beating on her. I’d say ‘that moment in TAAO 12′, but… everything in TAAO 12. From saving Starscream to helping forge him fresh to what she says to vigilem about the spark burning away ‘everything that isn’t true’ (that’s so conditional, I choose to believe he isn’t 100% gone. brain ghost titans are too good to waste).

And she’s so good. She’s so persistently kind and sweet, and she’s so naturally caring, but without it devolving into any sort of boring caretaker stereotype. She’s just so good-hearted and I adore her. I don’t know if I could dislike her.

(frivolous sixth reason: she is gorgeous)

Top 5 reasons I like windscream

Let’s lead off with that frivolous sixth reason this time: they are two gorgeous mechs who look gorgeous together, and even have complementary color schemes. It’s meant to be (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) Also, FEMDOM.

Then, let’s see. The way they disagree very strongly on like… the fundamentals of how to approach a task. Politics is the easy one, but tbh… almost any task. They often share end goals, but so much about them is so incredibly different, and it makes for an electric dynamic. They constantly disagree, but they orbit each other so naturally. I write mostly Windblade POV, but they’ve both got this massive undercurrent of fascination with the other one that neither of them wants to admit to themselves or out loud (windblade’s a little more willing, just because she doesn’t see attachment as a vulnerability the way starscream does).

She’s so young and innocent and inexperienced (even though she’s gaining experience very quickly), and he’s older than the war and incredibly cynical/paranoid/burned out. Neither of those positions are sustainable. But if it makes sense, like… it’s hard to see the weak spots in your OWN position, it’s easier to see them for other people. They’re perfect complements for each other, once they manage to actually listen. In a political sense, but also on a more personal, emotional level.

She doesn’t have that war background that most of the cast has. So many people have so many reasons not to trust/like Starscream. Which is, y’know. Justified. From both sides. And even if he’s genuinely trying to build something of himself PAST the war now, there are really not many people who will give him a fair shake. Windblade isn’t totally ignorant of his history or anything, I’m sure, but not living it herself makes it a little easier to look at Starscream and trust him to not be that same person with those same priorities.

They are both so petty and ridiculous when they’re annoyed, oh my goodness. I don’t know what it is, but these two, just. It flows so naturally. They’re both competent adults doing difficult jobs and doing them pretty well, but stick them together and they’re acting about as mature as middle schoolers trying to provoke each other. It’s fun on its own, but it feels even nicer because 1) Starscream isn’t having his sharp edges filed off, but 2) having all the sharp edges be pointed in this ridiculous, petty direction takes so much genuine venom out of the thing, and makes some space for him to Do An Emotion (and to get somewhere without shooting himself twenty million times in the foot) (nobody does self-sabotage like starscream)

But then, that goodness I mentioned for Windblade up above? If I balance them right, she doesn’t take unjustified shit from him. She works loyally with him as a team, while also arguing the points she disagrees with. She feels lots of sympathy for what she can see of his current emotional state and the bits and pieces of what she gradually learns about his megatron-specific past. But she can do that without turning him into some broken bird she wants to heal. She’s going to be all bristly and protective over anyone who poses a threat, and she’ll try to prod him into eating more or going out for a flight, but she’s not going to flutter and simper over him either. And Starscream has someone who isn’t afraid to fite him, but doesn’t want to do him harm either, and who isn’t drastically changing their everything out of ~pity~ for him. It means a lot to him (secretly) that someone would ever EVER put themself in harm’s way to protect him, but oh my god you idiot you are a baby and have never been in a real fight, YOU get behind ME. The push-pull between them, I just… it makes me sigh the happiest sigh ever

And my top 5 pitch transformers ships! Oh man, this is going to be interesting to break out, because I don’t usually mentally filter on quadrant, I filter on character, or d/s dynamics maybe, trying to pick out all the pitch bits out of the mess is going to be a challenge.

Windblade/Starscream is a gimme after all that up above, so that doesn’t count for the list :P

Drift/Ratchet. I adore these two, and I really really really love the way they went from tense and sometimes hostile to the emotional support they’ve got now. But it doesn’t feel them if Drift isn’t teasing or prodding him. Vulnerability is good, but it’s not like… steady state Drift. Drift is silly and has a sense of humor and is friendly and good natured, and Ratchet is dour, and both of them naturally care a LOT. But they’re opposites in so many ways that I live to see them both quietly being prodprodprod with a curtain of not-exactly-hostility overlaying a whole lot of trust and affection.

Whirl/Cyclonus, although I tend towards a very pitchpale feeling with them instead of pure pitch. But Whirl is not good with soft and squishy emotions, so at least pretending it’s full-on pitch sits better with him. This is a case where there are just soooo many similarities between them, what with their wartime pasts, being lorge and exceptionally good at violence, having a very difficult time with friendly social connections. But also, MAN do they get off to a rough start XD But that bit in 47 where Cyclonus tells Whirl that he knew Whirl would tell him the truth, even if it hurt? And Whirl was brutally honest with him? Oh my god so pitchpale, I DIEEEED. And both of them are bad at communication, both of them are quietly full of moral injuries, both of them are really surprisingly pro-social when they’re put on the spot, and do a LOT to protect other people. I love love love them.

…….Prowl/Rewind. With Chromedome in the middle, but that’s the pitch piece. Not necessarily healthy, but SO EMOTIONALLY CHARGED, holy shit. I poked at this once in a fic (ending disastrously). But I also want to do a near-disaster that works out okay (the solution is to put Chromedome in the middle until the scene has momentum). Or Prowl/Fort Max, which is even more complicated, and may necessitate the addition of Red Alert and Cerebros as buffers between them.

Similarly, Starscream/Windblade/Knock Out, all pitch, with Breakdown on the side being completely made for companionable needling. Starscream and Windblade, I have already said a ridiculous number of words :P Knock Out and Windblade have all this potential to be fascinating to each other, because their cultures are so different, but Windblade was able to get a win in Velocitronian politics, and Knock Out is from a colony with a living, functional titan (one in almost a waking coma, but hey). And they’re both outspoken and open with their thoughts and he can be so petty the same way Starscream can, and it’s deliciously infuriating and she just– (but also, windblade and breakdown being sweet with each other, and exasperated and fond while starscream and knock out get distracted and ridiculous with each other).

And…. hmm hm hm. I don’t have much of a continuity in mind except to specify not IDW, because IDW OP is being an ass. But Starscream/OP. There’s something about Starscream and disillusionment with Megatron as a leader, plus fascination with Megatron’s opposite and parallel, but without dropping the established hostility with the autobots, and demanding as much out of Optimus as he would demand from Megatron, and just, so good. So hard to established without ‘to end this war you need to robot marry’ sorts of scenarios, but soooooo good. So like, in TFP, Optimus is so chill and placid, and Starscream is high-strung and emotional, and everything about them finding a stable orbit with each other is so fun. Or TFA, Starscream is old and cynical, Optimus is young and inexperienced (I sure do love that sort of ship :V), massively differing ideologies, experienced cynicism versus young, idealistic optimism, and a HUGE size difference because mmmm priorities. Lov this ship.

And there are others, where I either haven’t pinned down the words or don’t have a good scenario or justification, or just can’t say as much about them. Soundwave/OP, Soundwave/Starscream, Pyra Magna/OP, Elita One/OP, Pyra Magna/Elita One, Rung/Froid, Overlord/Tarn, Overlord/Megatron, Deathsaurus/Rodimus (shh sh sh it makes sense), Sunstreaker/Sideswipe, Arcee/Prowl, Arcee/Windblade, Elita One/Windblade. Hahaha, I’m trying to run through the cast by characters and see what I remember :P

Bumblebee/Starscream has pitch overtones, but Bumblebee is so much of a sweetheart and Starscream is being open because just a ghost amiright??? and he wobbles out of pitch pretty easily. TFP specifically is good for Knock Out/Bumblebee and Shockwave/Soundwave. Jazz/Starscream is another one that’s superficially pitch, except Jazz is being difficult and slippery and refusing to make a single real move into that quadrant. Some of these might jump into the list if I can get them written out in a story, but for the moment, I can’t quite words them.

[honestgrins]

Reset || Klaroline

Caroline had a bad habit of staying late at work, but the hospital never slept as proven by the late night car accident victim rushing into their emergency room. Left with his older brother, she makes an effort to at least reset the poor guy's broken nose. 

Warnings: slight mentions of past abuse, car accident, emergency room visit

"Go home, Caroline," Bonnie insisted, all but shoving her friend toward the locker room. "You've been on your feet for at least six hours, four of which weren't even your shift."

Sighing, Caroline rubbed at her neck tiredly. "I know, I'm going," she promised.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Bonnie snorted, following Caroline like a watchful parent. "Even doctors need their sleep."

As they passed the emergency room entrance, however, paramedics burst through the door with a gurney. "Motor vehicle collision, ten-year-old boy with a broken arm and labored breathing."

Jumping into action, Bonnie elbowed her way next to the stretcher as they rushed toward the trauma room. "Head wound, conscious?"

"Likely a concussion, some lacerations from the glass, barely awake," a medic explained. Caroline watched them disappear down the hallway, her heart clenched in worry.

Despite nearing the end of her residency at Mystic Falls General Hospital, it still hurt to watch patients come in dire conditions. Her desire to fix the boy's injuries almost sent her chasing after Bonnie, if not for the man running in the emergency room. He was pale and shaking, blood pouring from his obviously broken nose.

"Henrik!"

"Sir," Caroline approached him carefully. "I'm Doctor Forbes. Do you need medical attention?"

Shaking his head, he frantically looked around the hospital. "My brother and I were in a car accident, and the paramedics rushed him out of the ambulance before I could even stand. Where did they take him?"

With his swollen nose bleeding steadily, Caroline grew concerned about his own health. "They have him in good hands, but I'd really like to check out your injuries. Can I lead you to an exam room?"

He ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders tense with anxiety. "I just want to see my brother-"

"-and I can find you an update as soon as there's one to give," Caroline assured him calmly. "Until then, may I examine your injuries?"

His tongue ran across his chapped lips and he grimaced, probably at the tang of blood. "Fine," he sighed, weary.

"Thank you." Caroline walked him to the nearest exam room, grabbing a clipboard from the front desk. The nurse on duty glared at her, likely because he knew her shift ended earlier that afternoon. "Enzo, I'm taking room three for a quick glance-over. Will you let me know if there's any news on Bonnie's patient?"

"Sure thing, gorgeous," he answered in a smarmy voice. "I'll also let her know you have a patient yourself."

Taking the warning for what it was - crossing Bonnie Bennett was never a good idea - Caroline still rolled her eyes. "Thanks," she sang sarcastically. Turning back, she was a bit embarrassed at her patient's unimpressed expression.

Caroline coughed, letting him charge into the room so he could settle on the examination chair. "At the risk of making me seem like a bad doctor," she said in a prim voice, "I would like you to know I'm working on an extended shift with limited sleep. If that makes you uncomfortable, you can ask for another practitioner to take my place."

"I don't want to wait," he answered dismissively. His knee bounced erratically, his nerves likely on an adrenaline overload. "Can you just reset my nose and be done with it?"

Struck by his blase attitude about a painful procedure, Caroline tried to tamp down her natural curiosity by focusing on the clipboard. "Name?"

"Klaus Mikaelson."

Caroline filled in the intake form, forcing herself not to ask the question. "Seriously?"

Well, that didn't work.

Klaus frowned in confusion. "Pardon?"

"'Just reset my nose,'" she mimicked in a poor imitation of his British accent. "Get your noke broken a lot, or are you just a masochist who enjoys the pain?"

Giving her a wry, hollow smile, he shrugged. "More the former, love. I don't enjoy the pain, I'm just used to it."

She glanced up, meeting his eyes with an understanding of her own. Doctors received all sorts of training on how to look for signs of abuse; Caroline had a different eye on survivors who had long since survived their hell.

She recognized those eyes from her bathroom mirror every morning.

"Um…" Searching for the right thing to say, Caroline quickly gave up in favor of action. She gingerly traced the edges of his nose, noting where he hissed in pain. "Okay, I found the break," she warned. "I'm going to reset it one, two-"

A sickening crunch filled the room, nearly engulfed by Klaus's curse. "Fuck!"

"There, that should help with the healing," she said, plucking a couple of cotton balls from a jar. He accepted them easily, dabbing at his bloody nose. "Nope," Caroline chided, "stick them in there to help with the clotting."

Klaus sneered, but did as she said. He glanced up, as though daring her to laugh.

Professional as ever, Caroline just went about bandaging him up. Sensing his buzzing agitation, she figured a distraction might help him relax. "I haven't seen you around town before. New to the neighborhood?"

"My grandparents moved to Mystic Falls when my mother was in high school," he explained tiredly, clearly catching onto her game. "Despite raising most of her children in Chicago, she decided to bring out youngest brother back here."

"Do I sense some jealousy? Because trust me, growing up in Chicago sounds a lot more exciting than Mystic Falls. We have one bar that knew exactly who was underage. I mean, it wasn't exactly hard for a girl to get free drinks, but still." Caroline cringed the more she rambled. "Sorry, you don't have to answer, I'm just being nosy."

Klaus shrugged, showing no offense. If anything, he seemed mildly amused. "Not jealous," he clarified. "I suppose I should be glad Henrik will be raised here, away from… But I visit one weekend, and we get t-boned by some drunk driver." His breathing turned ragged, and Caroline could tell he was working himself up. His hands raised to cradle his head. "I can't keep him safe."

Caroline's heart broke for the guy, he was so upset. Poking her head out of the exam room, she called to Enzo, "Hey, anything on Bonnie's patient?"

"As soon as they stabilize him, they're taking him to CT to check for brain injury as a precaution," he answered. "Doc said things were looking good, though. He was awake and talking."

"Okay," Caroline nodded, turning back to face Klaus. "They're making sure his vitals are strong enough for some testing," she explained. "I heard before that his arm was broken, but it sounds like they're just doing checks in case other problems show up."

"He's ten," Klaus sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

Shrugging, Caroline smiled wanly. "And he'll bounce back, provided everything goes well," she said. "People are resilient, kids especially." Klaus didn't seem to believe her, which made Caroline want to work harder to convince him. "Seriously, would you believe I became a doctor out of spite?"

Watching her carefully, Klaus at least seemed focused on her.

She tended to some other cuts on his face, like it wasn't a big deal she was sharing personal information with a patient. "Yeah, uh, I had this really shitty boyfriend in high school," she explained. "I ended up in the hospital for- Um, anyway, he came to visit. We were sitting there, and I made some comment on how cool it would be to be a doctor. Healing people, helping them, it sounded nice."

As she lost herself in the memories, Caroline smiled apologetically when the antibiotics made Klaus wince. "So, my boyfriend couldn't believe I thought I could handle a pre-med course load, let alone med school." Caroline snorted in derision. "Just because he failed out of a business major, I couldn't be a doctor."

"Well, you showed him," Klaus said, impressed. "Is that why you came back to Mystic Falls, to prove him wrong?"

"No," Caroline sobered. "No, he's in prison actually, good riddance. I came back for my mom, she had cancer."

Klaus nodded sympathetically, and Caroline hated to make him pity her when he was the one who had just been in an accident.

"She's fine now, in remission," she said, feeling incredibly awkward about blurting out her private life. "But yeah, doctor out of spite." She pointed her thumbs back toward her. "People bounce back."

"The moral of the story," Klaus noted. "Thanks, I suppose. Henrik could probably use some of that optimism."

Smiling, Caroline put on a final bandage. "You should call your mom, have her sit with you while you wait for Henrik. Enzo can finish your processing paperwork at the front desk," she said, handing him the clipboard after adding her notes. "I'll leave you a script for some mild pain meds, but you should probably have a full checkup once you know your brother is stable."

Before she could leave the room, however, a cold hand wrapped lightly around her wrist. Caroline turned back to face Klaus, bloody and earnest even with cotton balls up his nose. "Thank you, Doctor Forbes."

She was struck by his sincerity, something inside her begging to give him the same. "Caroline," she finally offered with a shy grin. "And you're welcome."

"Caroline," he tested on his tongue. "It suits you."

Snorting, Caroline rolled her eyes. "Okay, charmer, let's drop you off with the nurse. Don't believe anything he says about me," she warned.

"Would he say that you'd join me for a coffee one day?" Klaus asked. "Because I'd like to believe that."

"Smooth," she laughed. Still, Caroline was surprised to find that she wanted to accept. "I thought you were just here for a visit."

"For the summer." Klaus smirked, gesturing to his nose. "I promise, I'm usually better looking."

Caroline bit her lip in consideration. "I have no doubt," she muttered quietly.

"It doesn't have to mean anything, it could just be a thank-you coffee," he offered, just to tempt her a bit further. "Take a chance, Caroline. I dare you."

Nodding slowly, Caroline reached into the pocket of her lab coat for one of her business cards. "My cell number's on there, but any medical questions should probably be directed elsewhere. Got it?"

Klaus grinned, bowing lightly. "Last one, then," he said. "Where can I find my brother once he's done with testing?"

"Oh, Bonnie- Doctor Bennett will come and update you when he's ready for visitors," she answered. "The waiting room is going to be your best bet."

Squeezing her hand, Klaus nodded gratefully. "I'll call you for that coffee," he promised, heading out. "Something good should happen from today."

Caroline watched him go. She hoped good things did happen from today, and she had a pretty good feeling they would.

[filipeteimuraz]

7 Reasons Why You Do NOT Need to Hire a Website Designer

I’ve had a dream for a while to quit my job and build my own business.

Recently, I did just that. One of my businesses pays the bills while I build another one up.

I gotta say, it’s as amazing as I dreamt about it all those years. I wake up relaxed, calmly walk down the street and grab coffee, work on stuff that I want to work on all day, then hit the gym for a few hours. No rushing, no stress, no dead-end projects from my manager. Every day is a great and enjoyable day.

I didn’t make this happen on the first try. I have a closet full of failed sites and businesses that never went anywhere.

Looking back, a few things finally made it all come together. But hiring a web designer for my site wasn’t one of the critical pieces. Horrible site designs didn’t hold me back, nor did it finally give me the freedom to quit my job and build my business.

I’m going to be blunt.

By the end of this post, I’m hoping to convince you that a hiring a website designer is a waste of your time and money. Not only are there cheaper ways to get a great-looking site (I’ll show you them below), there are also much more important things to focus on before getting a fancy website design.

Reason #1: A Website Design Won’t Help

After countless business and site failures, I’ve learned a few things about what to prioritize.

Here’s what I obsess about when I’m starting a new business:

Do I have an extremely compelling offer that a specific market really wants?

Can I define that market precisely?

Have I proven a repeatable process for acquiring customers from that market?

Is it an attractive business model with healthy cash flow?

Do the challenges in this industry align naturally with my personal instincts?

How can I de-risk the opportunity as much as possible?

Guess what’s not on that list?

Website design.

Don’t get me wrong, website design can have a tangible impact on a business. But that opportunity happens at a much later stage.

If you don’t have enough revenue coming in to cover your rent or mortgage, hiring a website designer won’t change that fact. You’ll still be struggling to pay the bills. The only difference is that your savings with have gotten smaller by several thousand dollars.

I’ve used a personal blog to attract consulting clients for years. It also helped me get a few jobs that accelerated my career quite a bit. Have I ever paid a designer to give it a great design? Nope.

First I bought a $30 theme from Themeforest. Then I paid for Thesis (a WordPress framework) for about $100 and used the sample theme for years. Recently I bought Genesis (another WordPress framework) for $60 and currently use its sample theme.

After almost a decade, I put less than $200 into my website design. That didn’t stop me from landing speaking gigs, getting amazing jobs, closing clients, doing paid workshops, and having enough income to support myself while I quit my job to start another business.

Before getting a custom site design, I make absolutely sure I have a great offer that customers are paying for, a specific target market, and I know how to get in front of that market consistently. Any money spent on website design before hitting these milestones is a waste.

These days, there are plenty of low-cost ways to get great design assets anyway.

Reason #2: Buy a Theme for $60 Instead

What would you rather do at this stage of your business?

Hire a website designer for $10,000

Spend a few hours looking for a new theme for $60

To get a good website design that’s worth the extra hassle and time, $10,000 is a pretty conservative estimate.

For me, this decision depends entirely on the stage of the business. For a larger site that’s making real money, the $10,000 option makes perfect sense. The site has enough unique requirements that a theme really isn’t an option any more.

But when I’m just starting a new site, I’ll gladly use the $60 theme until the site is large enough to warrant a bigger design budget.

There is a catch to all this.

In order to buy a theme, you need to build your site with a tool that allows themes to be installed.

For blogs and basic sites, WordPress is perfect and has an enormous theme ecosystem. There’s an endless list of professional themes for $30–60. Our favorite web hosts all have one-click installs for WordPress which makes this option super easy. After you’ve installed WordPress, head over to Themeforest and pick the theme you want.

For an ecommerce site, Shopify gives you a ton of ecommerce features you’ll need while also having world-class themes. Many of them are free, some are $180. It’s our top recommended ecommerce tool.

You’ll get a great-looking site for a fraction of the cost it would take to hire a website designer.

Reason #3: Or Use Squarespace for $12/month

What if this whole WordPress or Shopify thing is too complicated? Is there an even easier way to get a website built?

You betcha!

Squarespace is your best option, it’s considered the market leader for website builders. These are tools that make building a website as easy as possible. It’s all drop-and-click and basic text editing. No programming or complicated settings to figure out.

It’s kind of like WordPress in that Squarespace is the tool that runs your site. Then you’ll pick a theme that changes how your site looks.

The main differences are that Squarespace is much easier to use and the theme is included in the monthly price. Pricing starts at $12/month which is very reasonable. Squarespace is your best option if you need a basic website that describes your business. A homepage, an About page, a Contact page, and that’s about it.

If you’re building an ecommerce business, use Shopify.

If you’re building a blog or want to focus on SEO, use WordPress.

Regardless of which option you choose, you don’t need a website designer for any of them.

Reason #4: Use These Logo Hacks Instead

Any designer that’s really good will charge a boatload for a logo. For a major corporation that depends on its brand identity, it’s well worth the cost.

But when I’ve started websites and businesses, the last thing I want to spend money on is a logo. I need to conserve every dollar I have to get the business off the ground.

Among online business owners, there’s a hack for getting a great logo at a reasonable price.

The hack is 99 Designs.

It’s a platform for connecting designers to clients. And it works like a contest. You put in your design spec, a bunch of designers submit designs, you give feedback on the top 3–5 that you like, then you pick the winner based on the one you like the most.

I’ve done a bunch of these over the years and have always ended up with a great logo.

It’s super easy to run and you’ll have a great logo for $299. Other than your website theme, this is the only money that you should spend on design in the early days.

What if $299 is too steep? Is there a cheaper way to get a logo?

Yes, a lot of folks have been using Fiverr recently. You can nab a logo for as low as $10. Keep in mind that these logos will be very derivative and basic. The designer has a bunch of basic logo templates and styles they’ve used in the past. They’ll take your company name and plop it right into one of these standard logos. It’s the only way to crank out logos for $10. As long as you’re okay with that, Fiverr has my full support.

Reason #5: The Best Website Designers Aren’t Available

When I was running website growth and optimization teams, I’d occasionally come across a good designer available for a reasonable rate. Can you guess what I did next?

I hired them full-time and took them off the market.

I had more than enough work to keep them busy and a good designer is indispensable to a larger site. I’d quickly employ them full-time and give them more than enough work that they’d stop freelancing.

This happens all the time.

Senior designers know their worth and are super expensive. Younger designers with talent that exceeds their cost are only available for brief periods. Either a client brings them in-house or they figure out what they’re really worth and up their rates. Regardless, it’s super hard to find talent at reasonable rates for a new business.

The last thing I’d do is pay through the nose when I’m just getting a business off the ground.

Reason #6: Cheap Designers Won’t Do Much Design Anyway

I can’t believe I’m about to tell this story.

Years ago, when I was just getting my career going, I did a bunch of freelance online marketing. I ran AdWords accounts, did conversion optimization, wrote copy, and built a lot of websites. Building websites was the bulk of the work that I brought in. A bunch of small businesses needed them and asked if I could help. Of course I said yes because I was living out of a barn and needed the cash.

So I teamed up with a good friend of mine who was a front-end developer.

Here’s the problem: we had no design skills whatsoever.

I wrote solid copy, my friend could build whatever you wanted, but we couldn’t design our way out of a paper bag.

Clients would ask me if I could design a website, I’d say yes, then I’d go buy a WordPress theme that was 90% of what they needed. We’d tweak it just enough to make it look unique.

Here’s the part that will make you cringe.

I’d pay like $30 for the WordPress theme. Then I’d charge the client thousands of dollars for the website. I never felt too bad about since we spun the site up, wrote all the copy, and got everything in place. But still, that’s a lot of extra money you don’t really need to spend.

And this was back when WordPress themes weren’t that good. You could tell the difference between a theme and a real site in those days. Themes are so good these days that if I was a junior designer, I’d play this theme arbitrage game all day long.

Moral of the story: if you find a cheap designer, they’re charging you to find a theme and make a few basic edits.

Reason #7: Website Designs Age Fast

If you find a great designer who charges you thousands or tens of thousands of dollars for your website, you’ll be thrilled with the design.

For about a year.

Then it will start to age.

By years two and three, you’ll desperately want a new design.

Design trends online charge so fast, I can barely keep up myself. They change so quickly that I’ve accepted the fact that my sites need major overhauls every 2–3 years. Instead of a website design being an investment in the future, it behaves more like a fixed cost.

A great design only looks great if it’s better than everyone else’s site. A great design from 5 years ago does not look great anymore – it looks pretty shabby.

Let’s say you buy a WordPress theme for $60. In 3 years, you can easily buy another WordPress theme for $60 that looks more up-to-date. Now you’re spending $20/year to keep your website fresh.

What if you get a spiffy site custom built? If you spend $9,000 on the design (a very conservative estimate), that works out to a budget of $3,000 per year. For a lot of small businesses, that’s a hefty price tag.

I Only Hire a Website Designer When I Can Afford One Full Time

Here’s my rule: I only start doing custom website designs once I have the budget to hire a full-time designer. I might choose a website design agency or a freelancer instead if I don’t have enough ongoing work for a full-time role, but my business should be large enough that I could hire a designer full-time if I really needed. Otherwise I stick to templates and small design projects.

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